


Pretty Woman

by Triddlegrl



Series: Pretty Woman [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Addiction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pretty Woman Fusion, Alternate universe- secret diaries of a london call girl fusion, Consensual Infidelity, Drugs, Dubious Consent, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Prostitution, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex, self induced harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 06:43:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 23
Words: 192,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7303717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triddlegrl/pseuds/Triddlegrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The new improved memoir of Kurt Hummel, former escort extraordinaire. You know that story about the pretty prostitute who gets saved by the dashing business man? This isn't that story. This is the story about the pretty prostitute who saved himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So it isn't easy... But life never is.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally beginning the big move for all my fics to AO3 and I figured since this is the one that started it all we'd start with this.
> 
> This work is **heavily** based off the book and television series "Secret Diaries of a London Call Girl" and includes themes from the feature film Pretty Woman (1990). 
> 
> This was my first ever Klaine story and remains my baby. All errors are mine, though it had a clean up when I reposted it to LJ a number of years ago. You might not agree, but I kind of like them there if only because I get to go back and see a younger version of myself in my writing. That said, if you find anything overly bothersome or distracting please let me know.

This is a memoir, and if you’re reading it and your name isn’t Shane then it’s possible that this wasn’t written for you. If you are like Shane however and have found yourself in a room without doors, a situation without outs, then yes you have a place here. Perhaps you haven’t, perhaps you have taken the wiser paths and avoided some of life’s pitfalls, but you love someone and that means this is yours as well. Maybe you’ve never known love but you know curiosity. Maybe you’re reading this simply because you have an interest in Kurt Hummel. That’s fine, you’re welcome here. This is for you too.  
  
There’s a young man named Shane. Nineteen years old and in that unfortunate stage of boyhood that is no longer recognized by the laws we live under and the choices we must make; a child in a man’s shoes. Shane has a twin brother who is unlike him in everything except looks. While one will stop, the other will go, and it is usually only after the consequence has him pinned down that Shane will bear the cost of an action in mind.  
  
While one lives to please, the other lives to dare and Shane has always told everyone who will listen that one day people will remember his name; and they will. What he has missed in his passion is that there are people who remember it now. They wake with his name on their minds, on their hearts; laying sweet on their tongues like endearments and caged behind their teeth like curses.  
  
Maybe you are like Shane.  
  
You are someone’s brother, a son of someone’s son and so much more than just somebody.  
When you were younger there was someone you held as an idol, someone you thought you knew better than yourself and you thought that if you could only grow to become half the person they were you could die satisfied. For Shane it was Kurt Hummel whose fame had spread from coast to coast, whose face he could find staring back at him from glossy magazine pages every time he stopped at a news stand. Shane is not the only admirer Kurt Hummel has ever had but he is special nonetheless because he can honestly say that his idol returns his love.  
  
That’s the reason for this memoir. It’s time you know the whole me. To do that I have to take you back. To know me you have to know Kurt as he was, before the fame and long before Shane. He’s not so different but there are some key things you must know.  
  
The first thing that you should know about Kurt is that he’s a whore.  
  
The second thing you need to know is that I speak literally not metaphorically. There are a lot of the young and restless crowding the streets and universities of New York city who would use the term to describe their roles in the dull, monotonous regime of entry level jobs and graduate education, and Kurt has heard it all before and somehow manages to nod along and smile politely as they do so.  
  
Kurt is young and a philosopher in the manner of all young people. He likes a good euphemism as much as the next guy- probably even more than the next guy because he imagines himself something of an artist and he likes the poetry of them. He likes the way they glitter like bright possibilities and unwrapped presents.  
  
But when you get fucked for money he’s found that it’s best to just say it like it is. Yes, fucked for money. Because that’s what he does; he sells sex, and unsurprisingly he’s found that nothing flies off the shelves faster. Kurt can empathise with others his age; he’s done the college thing as well as some temping, so he knows how soul destroying it can be, but he’s also been truly fucked for pay and believe me they are in no way alike, the two concepts are on different planets even.  
  
Kurt is a true hooker, an escort, prostitute, whore; different day different name. Kurt doesn’t care what people call him; that’s just semantics. On his more contemplative days he thinks about how many types of sex workers there are, and tries to put himself in one of those boxes but he always fails. He doesn’t like labels as much as he likes euphemisms; gay/straight, top/bottom, madonna/whore. They all sound so concrete, so definite, and if there is one thing Kurt Hummel proves by his mere existence it’s that nothing is.  
  
There are a few more things you should know about Kurt. He hasn’t got any wife to support and no kids, so you can stop tearing up over the idea of some little woman with wide eyed babies waiting desperately in a hovel somewhere for the meager scraps that selling his body might bring because, ew. That’s what he would say to that notion. Kurt Hummel has never been desperate. He’s also never been abused by a relative and the only things he’s ever been addicted to are clothes and the view (not to mention truly fabulous mocha) at ninth street espresso on the lower east side.  
  
It’s not desperation or some tragic twisted childhood that has led Kurt to being what he is. It’s much simpler (and far less dramatic) than that.  
  
For Kurt, it’s as simple as always loving sex but never seeming to be able to hold down a steady boyfriend (because Kurt is gay despite his distaste for confining labels). When he was a little boy growing up in Lima Ohio, never having been kissed, all he’d wanted was a boyfriend. Back then he’d have sold his soul for the chance to be in a loving traditionally monogamous relationship, but unfortunately Lima wasn’t exactly teeming with little gay boys brave enough to face the censure of growing up in conservative town Ohio.  
  
Kurt had ceased being that lonely idealistic little boy shortly after losing his virginity on a bathroom floor at a freshman mixer, drunk out of his mind but blissfully happy to be holding the hand of one Sean Johnson, who firmly believed that monogamy was simply an invention of the boring and simpleminded. He’d been an artsy sort which now Kurt has to roll his eyes at because he’s met a million more just like him and it’s all so stupidly contrived, but back then he’d thought Sean had all the answers to life. Dating Sean had been anything but boring, and Kurt had never felt more beautiful than when splayed out beneath the older boys hands as he whispered alternately about shadows,lighting and fucking.  
  
Kurt really likes sex, and he’s really good at it and monogamy with all its rules and restraints bores him out of his mind. There, like I said simple.  
  
It also doesn’t hurt that the job pays well. To put it plainly if Kurt did have a wife and a couple of wide eyed babies they would be put up in a condo somewhere on the upper east side calling on room service because believe me when I say that Kurt Hummel has always been and will always be nothing but high class. He’s educated, which means he’s expensive, and he’s lived abroad servicing the elite in the fashion industry and he’ll choke himself on a Gap scarf before he comports himself as anything but cultured and absolutely fabulous. This means he attracts a certain type of clientele. He charges by the hour, and he charges a lot.  
  
If none of that surprised you, than this at least probably will. Kurt is a whore and he absolutely is not waiting to be rescued. Pretty woman doesn’t happen in real life and wealthy businessmen don’t marry prostitutes. He loves his job and as hard as you may find it to believe that, he enjoys the sex, he absolutely does down to the last shiver and gasp. The only thing he regrets about it is the secrecy.  
  
Which brings us to another thing you should know about Kurt. Kurt has friends and a family that love him, and this job just sort of happened and is really hard to explain to people who love you and want to see you become president or a doctor or some other shit like that. _Not_ paid arm candy. He absolutely can’t tell his folks and cant bring himself to even tell his best friend Blaine. That’s why N.Y. is the best city for escorts to work at the top of their game. Its rudeness, its unforgiving, cold anonymity is a sex worker’s dream, anywhere else you’d be at risk of your occupation getting back to someone you know, your Mom and Dad for example.  
  
At Kurt’s level prostitutes are harder to spot, in fact if they’re not hanging round street corners in hot pants and fishnets with track marks up their arms then most people seem oblivious that they even exist, but they are in fact everywhere. They’re sitting next to you in the trendiest bars, standing behind you in the queues of designer boutiques on Fifth Avenue and they’re sitting in front of you in the first class carriage. Next time you’re in a five star hotel, look around you. In a world of four year olds in bikinis and grandmothers in fuck me boots the surest way to spot a prostitute is to look for the young man in the suit, designer but not flashy with a bag or briefcase at his side.  
  
He walks quickly without attracting too much attention, his head held high and looking straight ahead- he knows where he’s going. He doesn’t go to reception and heads straight for the bar or the lift, acknowledging the staff only with the slightest of nods. He is fabulous and just this side of unforgettable, the sort of person a body's eyes latch onto and for the second that he remains in view men and women alike part their lips on a sigh of wanting, but then he’s gone out of sight and the sigh becomes a yawn as life trudges on and all that’s left is an aftertaste, the hazy memory of liquid blue grey eyes and a need. If he leaves any impression at all it’s that he’s a gentleman, a businessman, young and beautiful and going places. He makes you wish you were too.  
  
I can hear you wondering how a university educated young man from a good occasionally church going, middle class family in Lima ended up working in the sex industry. Well, like I said before Kurt loves sex, and he doesn’t exactly love money so much as he loves the clothes money can buy him. He’s not too proud to admit he adores attention, that he likes the feeling of the spotlight, and the burn of good competition, and few jobs are more high profile or competition oriented than escorting.  
  
He’s got ambition, talent and an exacting agent who makes sure he uses both with a go hard or go home attitude, all the top escorts do. Sue vets all his clients and provides security. When she was Kurt's age Sue was the most in demand escort in the city and that’s saying something because every zipcode has several agencies all vying to provide the crème de la crème of that districts whores; the incentive to be the best of the best couldn’t be higher. Sue lives and thrives on this sort of competition, and the thrill of it excites Kurt too.  
  
He studied fashion design (with a minor in business) in college and came out with an 3.8 but strangely with no real desire or drive to do a post grad. Not unlike Blaine who came out first in their class with a degree in business but no idea what he (and not his father) wanted to do with it. So like most clueless graduates, they’d gotten meaningless jobs, a dingy apartment and tried to figure out just what life had in store for them.  
  
They had done well to keep some of their student loan back as savings, but living in one of the most expensive cities in the world, the money didn’t last them long. A few groceries, rent and hitting the clubs on weekends naturally bled them dry. They ended up in a tiny two bedroom with six other new graduates, crammed in like sardines to such an extent that they ended up sharing a bed, in a box room that made their previous dorm room look like a banquet hall. I think you can see where this is going?  
  
Blaine is gay, and has been Kurt’s best friend since the first day he got lost on the way to ethics class and Blaine was the one passing at the moment he finally gave into the inevitable and sought help (feeling all the while like the worst sort of freshman). Now they were sharing a bed, and as I will say again, Kurt really likes sex. They’d ended up in a six month relationship, short by Blaine’s standards but the longest of Kurt’s life.They’d broken up amicably despite the truly dramatic circumstances (sixth months is apparently the limit that Kurt Hummel can go without getting drunk and ending up in the bed of some stranger with horrible hair and extremely fuckable lips) but it acted as a wake up call for them both. They needed their space and they needed to make money. So they’d parted ways.  
  
All his life Kurt had been dreaming of getting out of Lima, of everything that he could do and be out there in the big wide world and two years of temping and Kurt was ready to give up and move back to his parent’s house in Lima. He loved his father and step mother but God, sometimes even a long weekend with them was enough to make Kurt want to scratch his eyes out. But back then he’d thought he would gladly live with them rent free if it meant he never had to open some big shots mail ever again. To this day the ‘you’ve got mail’ sound on Outlook makes him break out in a cold sweat.  
  
That was not what Kurt Hummel had planned for himself. He could be, was in fact supposed to be, so much more.  
  
He’d headed into his favorite club, New Directions one fateful Friday night, fully intending on getting plastered whilst pondering how his life had veered so far off track, and quite typically ended up spending the night with some random guy. Older, handsome, paid for everything and didn’t ask for Kurt’s phone number, he was the perfect one night stand. Kurt can’t even remember his name, that is if he even told Kurt (not always a guarantee), and it was the best sex he’d had in months.  
  
It wasn’t that Blaine was bad in bed, far from that, but the simple fact is he’d been going stir crazy and itching for something to burn or twist or just break- Kurt can never put this feeling into exact words it’s just there or it isn’t. He knows it when its got him by the heart and is dragging him through the fire. He loves the way it smolders in his belly, the dark faceless danger of it, and no matter how tightly he shuts his eyes Kurt can never forget that Blaine has a face complete with eyes that he loves and they see him and know that Kurt needs something more. It sort of kills the sex life, that. Unless of course you have a heart made of stone and don’t feel any sort of guilt which Kurt doesn't and most certainly does. Blaine deserved so much better.  
  
The faceless stranger had been everything Kurt liked best and one hundred percent guilt free. He even paid for his cab fare home the following morning. He’d known the area; it was about $20 from his house to Kurt's apartment, $25-$30 in bad traffic. He should have suspected the wad of bills the guy had handed him was too much by the sheer volume of them, but it wasn’t until they’d pulled up outside his building that Kurt noticed the amount. There was almost $100 in tens and twenties, over three times what the cab should have cost; He’d just been paid for sex.  
  
Kurt is nothing if not calculating. By the time he’d unlocked the door to his apartment his mind was already in the middle of several calculations; his monthly rent, the days in the month, the profit from that one night out. Would he have taken the money if the guy had offered it outright? Kurt honestly dosen’t know. That sort of bothers him.  
  
Kurt tried to forget about it, he tried to be content with his low paying job and the gray walls of his cubicle but he just couldn’t. Maybe it’s because that little boy from Lima who sang show tunes in front of his bedroom mirror and meticulously planned out each outfit before he wore it while imagining the halls of his high-school were instead a brilliantly lit cat walk, is not as gone as Kurt likes to think. Every unchanging, colorless day at the office grew more and more painful and sitting at his desk with only the sounds of keys clacking and phones ringing to break up the screaming in his head started to drive him crazy. He can’t pin point the exact moment he settled for getting nothing and being nothing, but the realization was enough to drive him to sudden tears and an equally rash bout of desperation.  
  
He’d walked out on his job without any explanations and no looking back. He’d gone home and researched only to discover he was the proverbial naive little virgin. He’d never been a prude, far from it. But he had been completely oblivious to the massive, thriving sex industry operating right on his doorstep. For every New York zip code you had escorts of every gender, sexuality, age and race performing a seemingly endless number of services, some of which he couldn’t even pronounce let alone perform.  
  
After weeks of surfing, reading and discreetly asking around he’d finally found Cheerios run by one Sue Sylvester easily the queen of the business. After sending her a variety of photographs as requested, they’d arranged a meeting soon after, not only for her to give him the once over, but for him to get the feel for her. Kurt wasn’t an idiot, and wasn’t looking to end up plastered on the six o’clock news for being raped and killed and dumped in an alley way. He needed to be able to trust her. He’d gone into that restaurant an amateur and left a professional.  
  
 _“So you really are a human doll. Fascinating.” Sue gushed with the same taunting smile. Though she’d done nothing but mock him in the same dry condescending tone Kurt was almost certain the meeting was going well. Although Kurt was new to this, he could already see the dollar signs going round in the woman's eyes. “Well spoken, elegant, immaculately turned out and most importantly absolutely stunning. Of course that’s only after I get over the fact that you resemble the Pillsbury dough boy. Except with hair.”  
  
Kurt had started to blush at her earlier praise but the smile bled of his face as she smoothly turned back to insulting him. He stared at her in wide eyed confusion unable to decide what the appropriate response to all of that was.  
  
“Alright lady face, let’s get to some of the basics….” Sue produced a clipboard from her expensive looking leather briefcase. Kurt thought her whole get up looked a but mannish and the briefcase wasn't helping but he wasn’t exactly in a position right now to judge. He was after all trying to become a prostitute. “Can you do the A's?”  
  
What did that have to do with anything Kurt wondered, unless of course a client had a teacher/student fantasy?  
  
“Yes. um…French, Ethics, Management pretty much anything I ever took.”Sue stared at him like she was watching something repulsive happen right in front of her.  
  
“I’m not sure what you’re babbling about but you mentioned the french and it reminded me of my first client Onry Du’claw with the gimpy leg and floppy taupe`. I hated Onry but he insisted I keep the taupe` in memoriam of our time together. I now use it as a tea cosy to show the world my contempt.” Sue mumbled somewhat distantly. Then with a condescending smirk she clarified. “I meant do you do anal?”  
  
“Oh…” Kurt’s blushes intensified as realisation dawned on him, and he laughed nervously. Did the waitress really have to choose _that__ moment to arrive with their drinks? “Yes. Yes to anal.”  
  
“Wonderful. It’s good to know that there’s a whole man underneath your disturbingly pretty face. I can’t see many women wanting to get screwed by someone prettier than them and only half of our clients will be satisfied with spankings and tucking you in at night. It’s Very difficult to find work these days if all you’ll do is oral.”  
  
Sue continued to reel off a list of services the agency provided (as well as compliments and insults), all Kurt had to do was say yes or no and thankfully her only needed her to elaborate one or two times.  
  
“You’ll probably want to know a little bit about me, everyone does” Sue smiled as she placed the clipboard back in the briefcase. “But I say all you need to know about Sue Sylvester is that I’m not your friend. I don’t have friends. Friends are weaknesses. I got rid of my last weakness when I laced my one time lovers martini with rat poison and refused to pump his stomach until he gave me the rights to this company. I’m a winner and you porcelain, belong to me after you sign the dotted line and you will perform to absolute perfection. Also, I always take 40% of your cut and I reserve the right to take more if I decide I dislike you.”  
  
Despite his honest fear that Sue might be clinically insane, Kurt had signed a contract that day and had ceased to be simply Kurt Hummel lowly office drudge and become Porcelain Ward, the captivating and alluring escort and darling of Cheerios . Some escorts use their own names, but when you’re a John Smith or a Mike Jones you don’t really have much to worry about. Kurt Hummel is slightly more unusual and unsurprisingly complicates things. Sue called him Porcelain all the time anyway and in this line of business no one would raise a brow at such a name. As for the last name Ward, Kurt just liked the sophisticated feel of it, not that any of the clients care about his last name; some don’t care about his first.  
  
Being Porcelain helps him to keep his professional and his personal life separate. After his first few weeks escorting he realised he could afford much more than the studio apartment in which he currently resided and moved into a two bedroom apartment, one strictly private, one strictly business. Now everything in his life comes in twos; bedrooms, telephones, wardrobes, personas. One for Kurt, one for Porcelain. And never the twain shall meet.  
  
Of course it has its downsides, what job doesn’t? Not least the secrecy thing, and Kurt spends a small fortune on condoms, lube and the 101 other things he needs to work as a successful escort. But luckily Sue, for all her smugness and taking Kurt’s hard earned cash, taught him everything she knew, and Kurt has learned from the best. The hours are sometimes unsociable, and there’s always the chance of his alter ego being revealed. The biggest downside is how it has affected his friendship with Blaine. Things weren’t exactly the best after they went they’re separate ways but now Kurt can’t even relax when Blaine’s in his apartment. What if he somehow got into the bedroom he uses to service his clients? It made Kurt a nervous wreck thinking about it so much so that he now put Blaine off from coming over as much as he could.  
  
Make no mistake, Kurt is not ashamed of who he is or the choices he’s made. This is an adventure and just a stepping stone to bigger and better things. But Blaine would never understand it and despite their messy romantic history Blaine has always been there for Kurt. In every way he is Kurt’s truest and best friend. It’s Blaine more than the memory of some dumb kid dreaming of Broadway and the fashion mile who makes Kurt feel like Kurt Hummel is a one of a kind, the only bright star in an endless sky. Kurt well remembers the way waiting for Blaine to come home- after Blaine had caught him with that guy from the club and run out, had felt like a slow drag to hell. Blaine has become such a fixture in Kurt’s adult life that losing Blaine’s faith and confidence would be like losing a piece of himself.  
  
So it isn’t easy.But you know what they say, life never is.


	2. A view of Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurt stops for an afternoon coffee with his bestie in between clients. An escorts work is never done.

Kurt knows he shouldn’t complain, that there are men and women who would _kill_ to be personally trained by champion of the sex trade Sue Sylvester; he doesn’t care. The woman is a cruel mistress. She has an uncanny knack for interrupting Kurt’s personal life at the most inappropriate moments. Kurt sighs in annoyance and opens one eye as he tries to determine what insistent noise has ruined his favorite mid-morning routine: a bubble bath and Broadway musicale. When he realizes that it’s his work ring tone that is ringing, he reaches for the remote for his wall set stereo and turns down the volume. Then he stretches to reach his cell phone on the counter.  
  
“Hello?” He can barely contain his frustration as he holds the phone to his ear, turning over in the tub to rest his arms on the rim. He curses under his breath as he manages to slosh water all over the floor (just in case he was thinking about leaving the bathroom _without_ seriously injuring himself).  
  
 _“Ah sweet Porcelain. It’s good to know that no matter what ill ails the rest of the world you will always be so full of cheer and happy to hear from me. I’ve got a client for you this afternoon.”_  
  
Kurt immediately reaches for the notebook that never leaves his side as the sound of Sue’s voice fills his ears. Kurt takes the phrase ‘little black book’ to a whole other level; some of the entries he has in there would make a sailor blush.  
  
 _“I got a young one for you, new money, up and coming Broadway star, looking to blow all that fresh smelling green in one go and Sue Sylvester is glad to help. First time with an escort, very vague over what it is that he wants, asked for a girl.”_  
  
Kurt has to lift an eyebrow at this. One of the many reasons Sue is so good at her job is her ability to get as much as she can out of the client -- even despite their hesitation at being grilled. For a lot of them calling for a prostitute is humiliating enough without then facing the Spanish Inquisition, but Sue refuses to take no for an answer. She takes her clients pleasure seriously, because their pleasure is her gain, and she refuses to lose out to her competitors. She has shark-like instincts that Kurt has learned to rely on but even still -- if the client has outright asked for a girl then Kurt has to wonder why she is calling him.  
  
“Sue, you are aware that I’m male right? I mean I know you like to call me Lady Face but...”  
  
 _“Look Porcelain, this kid doesn’t know what he wants or which way is up. That’s the problem with your generation you know, so obsessed with the way things look. I saw Mr. St. Jame’s little musicale on stage and the tightness of his tights left me scarred for weeks. My doctor still can not explain the scar tissue building up on my retinas. Jesse can say girl all he wants but you’re still up lady.”_  
  
Kurt heaves a small sigh. “OK, when?”  
  
 _“Appointment’s scheduled for 12.30pm”_  
  
He brings his phone down to eye level to check the time. Shit. This was typical Sue. “Ms. Sylvester, it’s almost noon now!”  
  
 _”It’s an in call.”_  
  
“That’s beside the point. My body isn’t some machine, I need to warm it up right. You know I need at _least_ an hour to prepare!” What’s infuriating is that Kurt knows Sue doesn’t care. She knows, of course, that if Kurt doesn’t take the client then one of the other hopefuls dying to become her new star will.  
  
 _“You have plenty of time to do something about your frighteningly pale skin. I suggest investing in pigment.”_  
  
Kurt can hear her smirking. Sometimes Kurt really hates that, but he can’t really imagine a different Sue and their relationship (odd as it is) seems to work. Sue might insult him at every turn but he’s learned to pick out the genuine compliments she buries in the dung heap. Kurt has also reconciled himself to the danger of his business, and once or twice has had to use his code word for rescue. He was gratified to learn that as much as she might threaten him with his replacability, Sue Sylvester will allow no one to harm him and seems to take great affront at the men who would try to.  
  
Kurt, already resigned to going to work, gets out of the tub, stumbling as predicted with so much water on the floor, and scowls.  
  
“I haven’t even had lunch yet. Who requests a prostitute when the rest of the city is tucking into paninis and lattes?” he asks as he regards his naked form critically in the mirror. He is on the taller side, and as Sue constantly pokes fun at, pale. He works out regularly, and has nice tone to his body, but to his critical eye he is looking a little stretched these days; like there isn't enough skin to quite cover all of him. He really needs to stop replacing meals with sex and coffee. He can almost see his ribs and that won’t be good for business.  
  
“Plus I’m kind of hungover, I was with Matthew until God knows when this morning, you know that. You should have phoned Brit, she’s always up for more clients and is actually a girl.”  
  
 _“Brittany's out of commission. Her boyfriend saw her picture on the website, recognised that weird cat tattoo she’s got on her back.”_  
  
Kurt winces, feeling a moments sympathy for his colleague. It is hard to have friends in Cheerios, considering most of them will gladly poison the others to get a leg up, but there isn’t a mean bone in Brittany’s body. Kurt likes her, even if she isn’t the sort of girl to have wine and exchange wit with; there is a sweetness to her that brings out Kurt’s more protective instincts. He doesn’t have a boyfriend waiting cluelessly in the wings, but there is Blaine and he knows how he’d feel if it were him.  
  
“Oh my God, poor Brittany. Do you think she’ll come back?”  
  
 _“Yes. Poor Brittany, because she’s the one with angry clients to deal with. If I had a heart it would be torn all apart by her tragic love affair with robot boy. I’m losing thousands of dollars! I wouldn’t take her back if she came with a letter signed by the Pope on God’s personal stationary.”_  
  
To this, Kurt can only roll his eyes because he seriously doubts that God doesn’t have anything better to do than hand out personal recommendations for prostitutes.  
  
“Bye Sue,” he sighs, hanging up. A moment later he’s laughing despite himself. He sticks his head around the door and looks at his bedroom clock. 12:05. He needs to get a move on if he is going to be ready to meet the elusive Jesse St. James.  
  
You need to know that being a prostitute is actually pretty hard work.  
  
Kurt has rituals and he sticks to them meticulously. Since he’s already washed up he pats his hair (never blow drying, unless he can douse it in the proper protective serums which he just doesn’t have time to use just now), enough so it’s not dripping wet, but just so that the strands still lay damp against his cheeks.  
  
Before he does anything else he reaches in the drawer beside the sink and pulls out a butt plug– non-vibrating. It’s not to get him hard, just enough to open him up so there’s minimal preparation needed. One of the many things he’s learned in the past year is that you just can’t rely on a client to do it for you. Some days Kurt likes a little roughness, but he isn’t looking to rip anything and some men don’t care what kind of harm they do.  
  
Next the skin is taken care of: powder, oil and moisturiser, and yes, Kurt is fussy about his skin. He’s got his working name to uphold and skin like his doesn’t come cheap or without care. He always makes sure he’s clean shaven; stubble rash doesn’t go down well, especially when clients are married. That, and Kurt doesn’t like facial hair marring up his face. As much as it pains him he wears generic deodorant and doesn’t wear any sort of perfume or aftershave; a professional never sends his clients home smelling like another man.  
  
Normally Kurt will wear a bit of makeup, which isn’t as prissy as it sounds, and in all honesty he’d probably do it even if he wasn’t in this line of business. Nothing garish or anything like that. Concealer covers up the imperfections that creep in despite his best efforts, especially when a client has been overzealous on his neck, or when a client has kept him up all night. At the moment he falls into the latter category. He’s tired, and the sleepy raccoon look is not sexy in the least. Kohl eyeliner accentuates his eyes making them look almost impossibly deep with desire whether he’s turned on or not, and highlighter cream adds an air of boyish innocence.  
  
The amount of clothing (or, of course, lack thereof) varies depending on the client, but since Jesse is a newbie, Kurt has to make his own decision. It’s the middle of the day and he’s only booked an hour, which means he’s probably limited for time and won’t bother with foreplay. Kurt walks out of his bathroom and into Porcelain’s private bedroom, and over to his wardrobe to flick through the rails and rails of clothing (all of it designer, but much of it things Kurt could never walk around in without raising some eyebrows) until deciding on a deep blue satin robe that reaches just above his knees. He loves the way this one makes his eyes pop, and he needs a pick-me-up after a shit night and what is sure to be a shit afternoon.  
  
He decides to forego underwear; it only gets in the way when you do what he does, although he has a very wide selection if the situation calls for it.  
  
He just has time to brush his teeth and trim his nails when he hears the buzzer go. Whatever Kurt had on his mind is now completely forgotten; for the next hour, Porcelain is on the client’s time.  
  
*************************  
Jesse St James lays sprawled on the four poster bed in Porcelain’s bedroom, which incidentally resembles a Venetian courtesan’s boudoir. The bed is king-sized and covered in dark red and black sheets, plush cushions scattered across the head of the bed. The large window lets the light in and is covered in netting to give the two men inside privacy.  
  
Kurt is proud of the tastefully erotic pictures and photographs in frame hung on all the walls. The wall opposite the bed is almost completely mirrored with an ornate dressing table in front. Its surface is covered in bottles of lubricant, massage oils and pleasure enhancers in all sorts of different scents and flavors. Hanging silk drapes surround the bed and the door, adding the finishing touches to a sensual paradise where his clients can escape the tedium and sometimes misery of their everyday lives. Kurt redecorates it quite often. This room is his personal masterpiece, and in a strange way his finest achievement.  
  
They are horizontal on the bed, Kurt’s head between Jesse’s legs and his mouth full of cock. One or two escorts at Cheerios will perform oral without protection, but not Kurt. The taste of the latex isn’t the best, and the chances of catching an STD just from giving head are relatively small, but it still isn’t worth the risk, and if, like him, you know what you’re doing then the condom isn’t going to make a difference to the client’s pleasure.  
  
“Tell me something you fantasise about,” Kurt whispers seductively, letting the other man’s cock fall out of his mouth with a purposeful pop. There’s a mood he’s trying to create here, an energy he must sustain, because Jesse, being an escort virgin, is as skittish as a colt.  
  
“This,” Jesse answers softly, looking down at Kurt through heavy-lidded eyes and reaching to grasp a strand of Kurt’s dark hair. He’s professional enough not to show his annoyance.  
  
He needs to be more direct. Not that unusual, especially considering Jesse came here wanting a girl but isn’t seeming to have too much of a problem with Kurt having his cock in his mouth. Damn Sue Sylvester and her scary instincts. Kurt crawls up Jesse’s lean body until he’s hovering over his erect penis. He reaches for the lube always strategically placed by the bed, and coats his cock liberally with slow, deliberate movements. He smiles as he hears Jesse’s breath hitch.  
  
“Where would you like to fuck me?” he asks in a voice that can only be described as sinful.  
  
The only answer Kurt gets though is a guttural moan as he sinks down onto him, relishing the delicious burn until Jesse is fully seated inside him, rock hard and absolutely exquisite. This Kurt loves. He closes his eyes and savors, letting Jesse settle.  
  
“Would you like to fuck me in an alley?” he asks with raised eyebrows, still holding still. “In a dirty alley? Bent over a filthy dumpster?”  
  
“…. on a seat!” Jesse manages to pant as Kurt starts moving slowly, rotating his hips instinctively.  
  
“Yes! On a seat!” Kurt agrees vehemently despite the randomness of it. He’s heard everything. “Where are we? In a house? In an office? I’m a lowly temp and you’re the big, powerful boss who seduces me?” If only. That might have made Kurt’s years as the office bitch more bearable.  
  
“In an theatre,” Jesse pants, his hands finally coming to rest on Kurt’s hips and Kurt allows him to guide the pace.  
  
Bingo. Seats. Theatre. Jesse is a Broadway prodigy. Kurt can totally set this scene. “I’ve been so bad Jesse,” he moans breathily, increasing his pace as Jesse’s cock continually hits his prostrate. “I couldn’t hit that note. Couldn’t stop looking at you. Picturing this. Us. You need to punish me, I’m such a bad boy.”  
  
“I should spank you!” Jesse finally blurts out, and Kurt can tell he isn’t far from coming. He doesn’t actually spank Kurt though, which is a shame; it’s been months since he’s had a good spanking. Jesse does however grab one of his ass cheeks firmly, squeezing roughly as his other hand frantically strokes Kurt’s cock.  
  
“Yes! Spank me Jesse! Spank me!” Kurt cries out as Jesse comes loudly into the condom, and it isn’t long before he follows suit. Once they both regain their senses, Kurt gently climbs off of him, removing the condom himself from Jesse’s softening cock and tying the end. He throws it into the bin across the room.  
  
“That was incredible!” Jesse pants as Kurt lies down next to him. “Thank you.”  
  
“Don’t thank _me_ , believe me, it’s nice to have someone who knows what he’s doing for a change.” That’s not entirely true; a lot of Kurt’s clients are fantastic lovers, but in this job flattery can go a long way, and Jesse was a pretty good fuck. That makes Kurt’s job a lot easier.  
  
Kurt can see him getting twitchy, like he’s uncomfortable in his own skin and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.  
  
“Stay,” he instructs softly, kissing the other mans lips gently. “We’ve got plenty of time.”  
  
“I thought that prost--” Jesse quickly stopped himself. “People in this career don’t like to be kissed.”  
  
“ _Pretty Woman_ , really? And you still insisted on a girl.” Kurt chuckles as Jesse’s blush intensifies. “The whole kissing thing is a myth, at least it is for Cheerios. Sometimes I enjoy the kissing just as much as the sex.” Jesse stares at Kurt for a few moments with a frown of contemplation.  
  
“Why are you telling me this?” he asks after a few moments, clearly intrigued. “I thought you would want to get rid of your customers as soon as they climax.”  
  
Kurt shakes his head with a slight smile. “I love my job," he answers simply. "Honestly, can you think of a better way to get paid? I can't. And you’re paying a lot, and if clients are willing to pay this much money then they almost always want something other than just sex, otherwise they would just pick up someone at the street corner. There’s no formalities and it costs them a quarter of the price. Then again some people just want to flash their cash.”  
  
Jesse laughs at the last statement, clearly relaxing as Kurt speaks candidly.  
  
“Sorry, I guess you’re right. I don’t normally do this sort of thing... in fact, this is the first time I’ve paid for sex in my life.”  
  
“What changed?” Kurt presses gently. There is something Jesse wants to tell him, it is written all over his face. This is Jesse’s time and he can use it however he wants to.  
  
Jesse looks down, suddenly embarrassed once again. Kurt manages to bite his tongue and not state the obvious; five minutes ago, he was bouncing up and down on his cock begging to be spanked, they have no reason to be coy.  
  
“I’m fantastic, you know, a real catch, but there’s… nothing, forget I said anything.”  
  
Jesse St James is adorable when flustered Kurt decides, never mind the arrogant attitude. He kisses his lips slowly once again, murmuring against them. “Tell me.”  
  
Jesse sighs as he pulls away, pushing dark strands of hair from his eyes. “I’m in love with a girl I shouldn’t be. She’s entirely unsuitable for me, and one of my main competitors. I may have entered a relationship with her with the intent of breaking her. I’ve always gotten everything I’ve ever wanted. It makes sense you know, I mean, I deserve it. There’s nothing I won’t do to win, and usually I’m cool with that but this time... This time, I hurt someone and there isn’t anything I can do to take it back. I don’t want to even, at least not the winning part; but losing her, it’s absolutely miserable. I find myself in the absolute depths of despair.”  
  
Kurt’s pretty sure his eyes say a lot right now, and none of it is encouraging, so he schools his features into something a bit softer.  
  
“That must be hard,” he struggles to sympathise.  
  
“If only she didn’t insist on breaking into the business right this instant. I can’t have people focusing on some bar karaoke singing novelty while I am on the brink of my first Tony.”  
  
“Does it really matter that much?” Kurt asks softly, his fingers idly trailing up Jesse’s bicep. He couldn’t help it that a bit of attitude was leaking into his voice. He’d run across more than a few drama queens in his life but this guy takes the cake. “She’s a girl, it’s not like she’ll be stealing parts from you, and it might actually be fun to share something special with someone you love. This whole Broadway thing might actually be important to her. You could help her.”  
  
Jesse frowns as if the idea is so unheard of that it deserves the deepest concentration. After a moment he shakes his head slowly. "The truth is, she far outshines me, and I can’t accept that.”  
  
Jesse sighs again and Kurt strokes his hair much like he would an adorable (if exasperating) pet.  
  
“At least you can admit it to yourself. That’s progress,” Kurt tells him sincerely. “I’ve slept with a lot of men who are all types of silly and shallow and very few of them have the guts to admit it to themselves.” Kurt can’t judge Jesse, he knows all to well the type of bravery it takes to face the parts of you that are just plain twisted. Kurt has quite a few of those himself.  
  
*************************  
  
I know what you’re probably thinking right now. You’re probably wondering about Kurt’s family, his friends. I said he wasn’t alone in the world or desperate, and he isn’t, so you’re naturally wondering how a man like Kurt can do what he does and have none the wiser.  
  
If you’re Shane, then you’re wondering about Blaine. How can Blaine not know and would it have changed anything if he had? Yes. It would have changed everything but not the way you’re thinking; not for the better.  
  
Here is something you need to know about Kurt and the way Blaine fits into his life. Blaine is not rich (though his parents are) and could no more sweep in and carry Kurt away like some prince on a white charger than he could grow a set of tits, but he would want to, and that is the glue that has kept them together all these years.  
  
Blaine is no smarter than Kurt, and certainly has no more answers to life's complications and mysteries, but Blaine, despite the image his business casual attire might portray, is the worst (and therefore best) sort of dreamer. Blaine sees potential everywhere and good in everyone.  
  
Really knowing each other, that’s a mutual thing. Kurt knows what few people don’t: Blaine is an unconditional giver, an uncontrolled sun giving out light and heat and keeping none for himself. It’s beautiful, it’s brilliant, but a star, even the biggest and brightest, only burns so long. Kurt can be kind too but he has no problem knowing when he needs to hold back, and when he needs to crack open and bare all. Kurt lives in twos, remember? He is both intensely private and shamelessly open.  
  
So they are a perfect fit as friends, you see. Blaine is good for Kurt and Kurt is good for Blaine, but they have learned the hard way that they are not in love. Or at the very least, Kurt is not in love with Blaine the way that Blaine was in love with him once.  
  
Here’s the second thing you need to know about Blaine and the way he fits into Kurt’s life. Kurt might not be in love with Blaine but he loves Blaine. Here is why. He’s had a shit day on top of a shit week and still he’s laughing as he sees Blaine’s eyes light up when the barista slides their orders across the counter. As they take their food to their table near the window, Kurt muses that no one treasures food like Blaine Anderson. To see his eyes regarding a plate full of chocolate chip cookies is akin to watching an sculptor appraise the David.  
  
Blaine now works as an management analyst for this massive record company and he looks the part complete with excessively gelled hair, but Kurt is fond of the exuberant child still peeking out of Blaine’s eyes as he digs into his food. He would have to be tortured before he admitted it but he even misses the out of control mass of curls Blaine sported while they were in college. But they’re both grown men now and this more polished look suits him as well.  
  
Blaine’s at the bottom of the ladder but he’ll of course gradually work his way up and eventually he’ll be earning megabucks, maybe even as much as Kurt does. That of course means they don’t see each other as often as they’d like or as often as they were used to in the old days. Blaine works long hours trying to impress his boss and Kurt of course has to jump to it whenever Sue says so.  
  
Not that Blaine knows it of course. As far as Blaine and the rest of his friends know, Kurt spends his days working just over the border in New Jersey as a purchasing agent for a men’s clothing chain called Clarks.  
  
They’d made a promise to see each other three times a week, but their days off aren’t always in sync so it is naturally easier said than done. Before this particular coffee date, they hadn't seen each other for over a week, and have spent the past hour catching up over a late lunch, and for Kurt at least, between clients.  
  
“One of these days, Blaine, you will choke and suffocate and I refuse to resuscitate you,” Kurt warns with a roll of his eyes as Blaine literally inhales the cookies on his plate in between taking giant gulps of his coffee.  
  
Kurt sips his mocha like a civilized human being, thankful the cup hides his grin. Blaine should really be appalled at his manners, he is a grown man after all.  
  
“Kurt, some of us need energy to get through the work day. We can’t survive on air and sass alone.” Blaine at least has the decency to swallow before speaking, something that is definitely not always a guarantee.  
  
“I prefer to call it class, something you should learn, and I think the rest of America watching you eat crumbs off your vest agrees with me.” Kurt doesn’t bother hiding his look of repulsion -- because seriously, they both have good jobs now. Blaine shouldn’t still be eating like they’re starving post grads, but his eyes are laughing.  
  
“Jeremiah’s got me on this diet," Blaine complains this time with a full mouth. “He thinks I need to lose weight, so I have to sneak my sweets in when he’s not around.” This is so ridiculous that Kurt forgets to remark on his bad manners, because he’s never heard anything so stupid.  
  
“Blaine, you’re tiny,” he remarks disbelievingly and Blaine flashes him this hilariously indignant look.  
  
“Okay tiny? I’m not that much shorter than you, Hummel, let's not jump to tiny.”  
  
“Blaine, neither of us are ever going to be labeled brawny. We might as well own it.” Blaine lets it go, but not without some half-hearted pouting and Kurt smiles into his coffee.  
  
“Jeremiah’s gotten into this whole vegan healthy heart tree hugging phase. He’s really concerned that if I don’t restrict my diet to grass and roots I’ll drop over dead before I’m forty,” Blaine explains after a few moments not without some thinly veiled irritation. And because Blaine can’t ever really talk mean about anyone, he adds, “It’s not all bad. Having an office job means I work out less. I have been gaining a little weight.”  
  
“On that we agree at least. You do need to eat better, I’ve been telling you that since I met you. But I’m not above pointing out that you’re still thinner now than when we were together and _I_ never put you on a diet!” Kurt can’t help it. He doesn’t like the boyfriend. Blaine knows that and largely ignores Kurt’s opinion on the matter. More about the boyfriend later -- let’s just say Kurt and Jeremiah don’t exactly see eye to eye and leave it at that.  
  
“That’s true, but other than that, you were the worst boyfriend in the world,” Blaine points out without any bitterness, happily sucking on his stirring straw.  
  
“I won’t argue that. And don’t do that,” Kurt chastises knowing fully that he’s just a little bit envious of the straw. Blaine smirks at him like he knows exactly what Kurt is thinking and stirs his drink again just so he can make a show of sucking on that damn straw. Kurt gets even by stealing one of his cookies.  
  
“Give that back!” Blaine calls out indignantly, causing the mother with her young daughter at the next table to glare at the pair of them. Kurt smirks, savoring the crisp of the cookie and Blaine smiles apologetically (because Blaine cares like that) at the woman and her kid as he snatches his beloved dessert back out of Kurt’s hand. He stares at it so comically appalled that Kurt can’t help but laugh.  
  
“Look at that, you’ve ruined it. Look at how much is gone! How big is your mouth?!” Blaine whines, unsuccessfully trying to stop his lips from turning up at the corners.  
  
“Not so big, but it gets the job done. Surely you remember?” Kurt replies with another smug smirk and he absolutely loves the way Blaine flushes. If Blaine’s mouth wasn’t once again full of cookie Kurt is sure Blaine would have come up with some equally savvy comeback, especially when Kurt adds insult to injury by blowing him a kiss. Blaine swallows and glares.  
  
“You are without a doubt the bitchiest person I know," Blaine accuses gesturing with his straw as he emphasises each word. Kurt takes it from him before he can hurt himself.  
  
“You love me.”  
  
“I never said I was sane," Blaine chuckles as he watches Kurt sip his coffee.  
  
“No one would argue that," Kurt agrees.  
  
They chat inanely after that, mostly about Blaine’s work and the lack of anything good on TV anymore, but eventually time runs out and Kurt needs to get home to prepare for his next client. It’s his turn to pay and Blaine raises an eyebrow when he catches a peek at a few of the fifties tucked in Kurt’s wallet, but he says nothing. It seems that their time together gets shorter and shorter these days and Kurt always hates it when they go their separate ways, but he’s also mindful that he’s got a client in two hours.  
  
Blaine doesn’t seem to be in any rush to be anywhere and so they walk slowly back to Kurt’s apartment, chatting idly about work and their families, and gossiping about old college friends and the latest developments in their dull lives.  
  
Kurt lives in a nice neighborhood on the edge of an even nicer neighborhood. His own apartment is fairly modest, as not to arouse too much suspicion, but the neighboring blocks are full of properties that are absolutely beautiful, places he’s always fantasised about living in, but he’s constantly worried that one of his clients might end up his neighbor -- it isn’t just their escorts that they like expensive.  
  
“How does anyone ever afford to buy houses like these?” Blaine asks almost dreamily as they stand looking up at a particularly splendid town house. “Yesterday I saw a one bedroom condo with an asking price of over one million!”  
  
“It probably had a fantastic view. That makes the price go up," Kurt reminds him.  
  
“For one million I’d want a view of Hogwarts!” Blaine grumbles. “Right now I’d settle for a little townhouse with a view of a cesspit as long as it was mine. I think I’ve lived so long in apartments I’m forgetting what a real house feels like.”  
  
“Maybe someday,” Kurt answers with a shrug, tucking his arm in Blaine’s and Blaine grins up at him.  
  
“Someday when we’re making a fortune we’ll buy somewhere like this. Wouldn’t that be great, having a place to call our own, a real place?” Kurt blinks at Blaine, wondering if he realizes the implied togetherness wrapped up in that statement. When Blaine squeezes his arm and gazes up again at the house Kurt sighs.  
  
It’s quite frankly amazing that there is no awkwardness between them. Blaine can be in an completely committed (if wrong) relationship with Jeremiah and still come up with these pipe dreams that they both know are just whispers and smoke and be completely comfortable with it. That’s the thing that gets Kurt, and he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve a friend like Blaine who lets him touch, who dreams with him, who has seen him at his ugliest and been on the losing end of his failings and still wants to be there when Kurt remembers how to dream again.  
  
“Yeah, like that’s ever going to happen,” Kurt says with a slight snort because one of them has got to be the realist and Blaine has always seen the world as it should be and not necessarily as it is.  
  
“It could!” Blaine insists without any heat and Kurt rolls his eyes.  
  
“And maybe someday I’ll retire early and then I’ll sell my memoirs and live off the profits," Kurt deadpans.  
  
“Your memoirs?” Blaine repeats with a hint of amusement. “You’re an purchasing agent for Clarks. Who’s going to want to read about that? Unless of course you decide to listen to me and start singing again, or do something with fashion like you’ve always wanted to -- either of which you’d be stellar at by the way. I can’t see anyone bothering elsewise. _You_ don’t even like to talk about your job. You always say it’s too boring.”  
  
“Oh Blaine,” Kurt answers sweetly, ruffling his curls in that way he knows always irritates him. It takes forever for Blaine to gel it into place for work. “Just you wait and see. You have no idea how interesting people might find my life."  
  
Maybe someday he will, Kurt thinks. Kurt will tell him, and Blaine will once again know every part of him and still want to be right where he is. Kurt will tell him, right after they buy that house with the view of Hogwarts.


	3. Ungroomed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurt experiences a first and remembers a few things he might have forgotten.

The first thing Kurt realizes when he begins to wake is that he’s not in his own bed. This one is way too hard: he likes a softer mattress for his back. The second thing he notices is that there is a body in bed next to him.  
  
It takes Kurt a few sleepy seconds before he realizes just how sinister that could potentially be, said body is most definitely living and breathing, but equally worrying is the reality that he’s obviously fallen asleep with a client, something he almost never does and only with clients whom he trusts implicitly. Even when clients have paid for the entire night Kurt usually stays up while they’re asleep, it’s by far the safest thing to do. Even at this level there’s still the chance of attracting some lunatic who’ll kill him in his sleep and then fuck his corpse.  
  
He rolls over as he frantically racks his brains to try and fathom exactly where he is and who he’s with. He’s halfway through his mental diary, a mixture of new clients and regulars, when he recognizes a familiar comforting scent and relaxes. He’s with Blaine.  
  
Kurt cracks open one eye to see Blaine sitting on his bed munching his way through a bowl of popcorn and flicking randomly through the quiet television. Now he remembers: it’s his night off and he’s stopping over at Blaine’s. Jeremiah has pulled his usual disappearing act for when Kurt’s around and is out with his hippie crowd. The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is lying on the couch going through Blaine’s collection of Friends DVDs listening to Blaine argue the case for why he thinks a young Matthew Perry would make the ideal boyfriend. Kurt’s eyes wander to Blaine’s radio alarm clock and sees that it’s almost 10pm so he’s been asleep for over an hour.  
  
“Hey sleeping beauty,” Blaine says, somewhat exasperated. “Did you know you’re the worlds most restless sleeper? You still kick and you definitely still snore. ”  
  
“I do not snore, Blaine Anderson, I snuffle.” Kurt immediately corrects, going back to an argument they’ve been having for years. Blaine grins.  
  
“Fine then, you were snuffling quite loudly in my ear and your arms are like pythons when you sleep. I was putting you in bed and you clasped on to me like a teddy bear and wouldn’t let me go, don’t you remember?”  
  
“I don’t remember. Did you carry me?” Kurt asks as he sits up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. His voice is husky from sleep and he can’t help but let out a small yawn.  
  
“Well you fell asleep on the couch in an awkward position and I figured it would be painful by the time you woke up. The bed’s more comfortable.” This is one of the great things about Blaine his kindness. It’s not a front, or a ploy to get something, he just assumes that everyone thinks of others as much as he does. “And your head was resting on my shoulder and honestly it was getting kind of numb.”  
  
Kurt is about to reply, but they both look towards the front room as Kurt’s phone starts to ring; his work ring tone.  
  
“You stay there, I’ll bring it.” Blaine instructs, patting Kurt’s thigh as he jumps out of bed and runs to the front room before Kurt can stop him. Kurt can not explain the absolute madness that seizes him. It is nothing less than sheer panic. No!No!No!No!No!No!NO!  
  
“It’s alright, I’ll get it,” he answers more than a bit hysterically as he follows Blaine at break neck speed, reaching to grab the phone from him and cursing under his breath as Blaine dances about playfully keeping it out of reach.  
  
“Wow Kurt, is it a boyfriend?” Blaine asks with a laugh as Kurt makes a grab for the phone. Blaine tosses it between his hands teasingly and genuinely looks shocked when Kurt grabs his arm and snatches it back roughly.  
  
“Blaine! Just stop it, don’t be an asshole!” He snaps, feeling a little guilty when he sees the hurt on Blaine’s face. “It’s my boss.”  
  
As Kurt’s heart settles he mentally kicks himself. What after all was that? True there was no telling what Sue would say if Blaine decided to answer it before handing it over, but even if she did say something that raised questions Kurt should not be reacting this way. The key is to play it cool, having an all out panic attack was only drawing attention to himself. And what was the emotional freak out all about anyway? Kurt’s hands are actually shaking.  
  
The thing is, he hates lying to Blaine even more than he hates lying to his family. They’d met at such a crucial point in both their lives: eighteen, away from home for the first time that truly counted, and scared shitless about it if they were honest with themselves. Blaine’s been the one person Kurt has told everything to, and seven years later they’re still best friends – that’s not by chance, and Kurt knows he hasn’t really earned it. As his heart gallops in his chest Kurt realizes that his worst fear is that what he does for a living is going to be the final step to losing him.  
  
“Hello?” he answers his phone, turning his back on Blaine but not bothering to leave the room. It would only make Blaine ask more questions than he’s already bound to have and there’s actually a lot Kurt can get away with saying without giving away his true occupation.  
  
_“Took you long enough. I was waiting so long I got six new wrinkles I had to cut off my face._ Sue Barks. _“I have a new client: 55 year old judge, very middle class. In-call, nothing kinky. You interested?”_  
  
“Call Jake or Mike, they’re working tonight,” Kurt tells Sue tiredly, rubbing his eyes as his exhaustion washes over him once more. “I told you yesterday that it’s my night off.”  
  
_“Did you? The hilarious part of all that is you’re under the impression that I care.”_  
  
“Sue I’m not coming in. I know I’m the best you have but even I need a break every now and then,” Kurt answers dryly and there’s a pause on the other end of the line.  
  
_“Excuse me, am I detecting exhaustion in your voice Porcelain? Are you tired? Is it that you think this job is hard? I cut off six wrinkles today and cauterized the wound without leaving a single scar.That’s hard!”_  
  
Kurt’s eyes widen but he says nothing, caught somewhere between horror and awe.  
  
_“Well this is a disaster. I can’t have my prize Cheerio falling asleep at a moments notice. This is preposterous! You’re just going to have to take the night off. I don’t want to hear from you again until you can manage not to bore me to death with your sob stories about needing sleep and food. You’re weak lady, weak!”_ And with that she hangs up.  
  
In some other world Sue might have apologized for overworking Kurt but in this one she manages to make him feel like a failure even as she grants him exactly what he needs.  
  
Kurt stuffs his phone safely back into the pocket of his skinny jeans and turns back to Blaine who is now leaning against the door frame looking pretty sheepish. He watches him hesitantly, almost like he’s waiting for Kurt to blow up at him again.  
  
“I’m sorry Kurt, I shouldn’t have teased you like that.” The earnest plea on his face makes Kurt feel even worse.  
  
“It’s okay, it was my fault” he admits with a sigh. He touches Blaine’s arm lightly and Blaine takes his arm with an apologetic smile and leads him to the couch as Kurt explains, “I’m just mad at my boss for calling me on my night off.”  
  
“They wanted you to work?”  
  
“Yeah they….one of the other agents has been sacked and Clark’s needs that contract with Yusef Makono completed by midnight New York time.” Kurt winces internally at the lie but Blaine seems to buy it, having no reason to doubt Kurt. Which only makes the lie even worse. “I told them to call one of the interns.”  
  
Blaine nods as Kurt ‘explains’.  
  
“I’m glad you did. You work too hard and always seem to be getting called in without any notice.”  
  
Unfortunately Blaine can’t understand that’s the nature of Kurt’s job, so it’s time for another lie.  
  
“It’s hard to say no to the money when it’s right in front of you.”  
  
“I get that, but Kurt what use is the money going to be if you work yourself into an early grave?” Blaine asks patiently, shifting closer so that he can look Kurt in the eye. “You don’t think I haven’t seen you? You fell asleep on my couch practically mid sentence earlier. Your body clock is all out of whack from working weird hours and you don’t eat properly because your body isn’t hungry. If you don’t be careful you’re going to end up collapsing from exhaustion, or with an eating disorder, or-”  
  
This show of concern warms Kurt inside and out so that all of the tension in his body bleeds away. He really doesn’t want Blaine to worry.  
  
“Blaine. I’m fine really,” Kurt implores, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I can look after myself.”  
  
Blaine doesn’t seem entirely convinced but is apparently willing to let it go. For now at least.  
  
“I know you can,” he admits with a smile. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself that’s all. And you’ve saved me from like a million of my bad choices so it’s only fair to return the favor.”  
  
“Great, then can we talk about Jeremiah?” Blaine sighs softly and rolls his eyes as Kurt goes on, “The hair Blaine. Between the two of you your babies would be poodles.”  
  
“We’re men. We can’t even have babies, Kurt, and stop trying to distract me. I know how miserable you were when you were temping but now I feel like I’ve got the old Kurt back. I’m glad you’ve found a job you love even if it sounds about as interesting as watching paint dry. I just wish the hours and the distance didn’t make you so hard to track down.” Blaine puffs out a soft sigh and nudges his side. “You’ve got that elusive quality now, and I’ve gotta admit it kind of suits you. I guess what I’m saying is, I’ve really missed you, Kurt.”  
  
Blaine smiles at him, open as any book and Kurt knows it’s not a line, not an attempt at quilting him, just one hundred percent honest emotion and Kurt’s breath catches somewhere in his throat.  
  
You need to know this; that one knowing smile dancing on the curve of Blaine’s lips is the one reason Kurt can’t ever tell him, no matter how understanding Blaine might be. Kurt has never seen Blaine smile like that at anyone else, not his parents, not his sister and certainly not Jeremiah. It’s something Blaine has always reserved for Kurt Hummel whether he realizes it or not.  
  
Kurt knows that even if Blaine accepts the fact that Kurt’s a prostitute with open arms, that Blaine will never look at him quite like that again.  


********

  
When Kurt gets a website booking there is often very little he knows about the client. They only tell him as much as they’re willing to fill in online so it’s up to Kurt to do some detective work before the client arrives, using the legendary escort intuition. He’s meeting his latest client in the hotel bar rather than his room and all Kurt has is his room number and his name.  
  
Kurt actually enjoys this part, thinks of it as something of a game. He has not been to this particular hotel before so it’s clearly newly opened. There are hotels that he’s been to so many times that he jokes you can see his ass print in half the mattresses. The interior is trying to be trendy but it’s failing so Kurt turns his nose up at it and deduces that the client is an older gentleman.  
  
It’s his first time with an escort so probably newly retired and feeling a little insecure with a need to boost his ego. He will no doubt want to be the dominant party in bed, which Kurt’s fine with. If he just lies back and lets him pound into him then it’s a bit of a no brainer.  
  
The hotel isn’t quite chic enough for the client to be some rich European, not lavish enough to be an Arab and the décor just screams country manor so Kurt pegs the guy as middle class and probably from the east coast.  
  
This is why he’s good at his job.  
  
“Porcelain?” A voice asks off to his side.  
  
Kurt looks up at the sound of his work name (it doesn’t come naturally but he’s trained himself to do so) to see a completely different man than the one he’s concocted in his head standing nervously off to his right. He is young, early thirties at the most, wispy brown hair and a noticeable English accent. He is dressed relatively casual compared to Kurt: a plain white t-shirt with a fitted blazer over it. He eyes Kurt’s made to measure Valentino three piece with something like awe.  
  
“Alex?!” Kurt asks in confusion bordering on disbelief, still not wanting to accept that he’d guessed so far off the mark. Kurt’s mouth goes a little dry because he rarely sees men as young and gorgeous as this let alone gets them as clients.  
  
“Yes, how do you do?”Alex confirms rocking up on his heels. “Shall we then?” he suggests nervously, his hands firmly in his pockets as he hedges towards the elevator as discreetly as possible. Yes, Alex is definitely a client (he looks like he would rather be anywhere else). Kurt thinks a little bit contritely that it is lucky he is good in bed because clearly his intuition is not what he thought it was.  
  
Half an hour later and Kurt’s doubting his skills once again. He is completely naked whereas Alex has his trousers around his knees and that’s as far as he’s gone to undress. He doesn’t seem keen to expose any more flesh either; still looks as if he seriously regrets ever stepping in the door.  
  
He’s sitting on the bed and Kurt’s on his knees in front of him. He’s been giving him head for the past twenty minutes and apart from the fact that he’s hard Alex gives Kurt no indication that he’s enjoying it. He hasn’t made a move to touch Kurt, not even to guide him since what he’s doing clearly isn’t working; Kurt’s best moves can’t elicit even a tiny moan from him. Alex is far too tense and Kurt is starting to get lock jaw, which isn’t good since he’s booked for three hours that night. He peeks up from beneath his eyelashes at him and to his irritation finds that Alex no longer even looking at him but somewhere past him, his face twisted up in embarrassment so intense it’s closer to discomfort.  
  
This is ridiculous Kurt decides. He has to do something.  
  
“Why don’t you lie back?” He instructs gently. “Relax.”  
  
Alex does as he asks but now appears even more skittish. “I’m sorry” the man stammers. “Maybe I should-”  
  
“It’s okay, we have plenty of time. We’ll get there,” Kurt reassures him quickly as he dives back between Alex’s legs, sucking greedily. That’s a bit of a lie; Alex has only booked an hour so unless he gets in the mood soon then a bad blowjob is all he’s going to get. Kurt contemplates the matter with determination because he refuses to leave a client unsatisfied. He’s Sue’s star for a reason.  
  
Clearly Alex does not do this sort of thing often, perhaps he is afraid to take advantage of Kurt, afraid that maybe Kurt doesn’t really like being touched. He wouldn’t be the first guy to come to Kurt unable to shake the feeling they were some sort of monster for taking what Kurt so freely offers. Kurt knows that the best way to fix this is to show them exactly how much he enjoys his body and truly wants to enjoy theirs.  
  
“Why don’t you sit back and watch me?” Kurt suggests as he lets Alex’s cock slip from his mouth. He wriggles backwards on the carpet so that he’s sat with his knees bent and his legs wide open so Alex can see _everything_. Blaine used to say he was a champion wriggler on account of how fast he can wriggle out of a pair of jeans. Good god, why is he thinking about Blaine now?  
  
Alex is watching him, looking slightly more comfortable now that Kurt isn’t touching him. Kurt can feel his gaze flickering over him. Alex takes a moment to really take him in, eyes going up legs, torso and halting as their gazes reconnect.  
  
Never taking his eyes off the client, Kurt reaches with one hand his bag and pulls out a small vibrator. As he turns the vibrator on he watches Alex intently, his head bowed so he’s looking up at him. He knows exactly how this position makes him look and he feels powerful.  
  
Alex’s eyes drift down to between Kurt’s legs as the unmistakable buzz fills the room, and Kurt groans loudly as he runs the toy over his balls and presses it onto his perineum. He smile’s internally as he watches Alex’s eyes darken with desire, before finally pressing the toy against his hole.  
  
“Oh yeah, fuck me,” he whispers wantonly, closing his eyes. It’s all a simple formula you see, all in knowing how to set the client at ease. There is no better feeling for Kurt than the moment he sees the dark smoke of need cloud another mans eyes. He absolutely loves being wanted in this way.  
  
Which is why what happens next feels something like a slap to the face. He opens his eyes in shock as he hears Alex swear quietly; he’s on his feet, fumbling to fasten his trousers as his hard on disappears. Kurt sits frozen, unable to wrap his mind around what he’s seeing. Only one other time has a client gone soft on him, and in his defense the guy was a sixty two year old alcoholic and most likely straight.  
  
You probably don’t know much about escorting, but you should know that behind being beaten, raped or murdered, this is pretty much the worst possible outcome of an appointment. It’s like ordering the Foie Gras at Balthazar’s and ending up with food poisoning, or ordering Marc Jacobs new line and getting a shipment from Abercrombie instead.  
  
“I’m sorry, this has all been very nice but I…it’s just that… it’s not you, it’s me.” Alex stammers hastily and Kurt wonders if he’s trying to break up with him. It’s silly. Alex remembers paying him, right? He didn’t just get lucky and pick Kurt up at the bar.  
  
Before Kurt can even react Alex is gathering his things and heading to the door, he returns to Kurt almost as an afterthought, holding out his hand to shake his, only to pull back hastily when his fingers brush the vibrator Kurt hasn’t yet dropped. His face flushes a bright red.  
  
“Keep the money,” Alex instructs him, and it’s clear that he can’t escape this room quickly enough. “And feel free to stay and use the room, it’s paid for online. You can’t book rooms by the hour at places like this.”  
  
“On my own?” Kurt asks incredulously, not even expecting an answer. He honestly does not know what to do with this situation.  
  
“Yes, of course if you want,” Alex stammers, becoming increasingly more uncomfortable and more intent on fleeing the room.  
  
“Wait! Just for future reference, is there something in particular I didn’t do?” Kurt’s question falls on deaf ears as Alex is already out the door and probably running down the corridor, and Kurt can hardly chase after him in his current state of undress.  
  
He looks around the room, and laughs in disbelief. He has to blink a little because his eyes suddenly sting, and _no_ he’s not crying. That would be the silliest part of the whole evening. It’s just that _this_ has certainly never happened to him before.  


**************

  
  
Something you may not realise about the very best escorting agencies, is that they have actual offices. These offices are staffed with numerous employees besides the whores. Cheerios is no different. The fact that Sue was able to buy a small town house and convert the main floor into office space is indicative of how much money the top escorts make, especially those who set up agencies of their own once they stop working.  
  
Along with her Cheerios Sue has two heavies employed, several drivers, a P.A, a marketing team, and a maid who does all the jobs no one else will do, like clean up in the cam room and come and collect their dirty sheets and take them to the launders.  
  
Kurt is currently sitting in Sue’s conference room. The walls are completely white, very minimalist and the table in the center of the room is stainless steel and tinted glass. The simplicity of it all is ruined by all of Sue’s trophies. You can always tell an escorts value by their collection of trophies, and not the shiny brass kind either. Every escort likes to snag regulars, fabulously rich regulars who shower them with gifts they can show off to the others. These are their trophies.  
  
Expensive jewelry and clothing rather than be worn is being displayed on mannequins in an large trophy case the spans the length of the entire back wall. It’s strange, and Kurt thinks that Sue might actually benefit from wearing some of it but they are her trophies so she can do as she likes with them.  
  
Sue has four meetings set for this particular Wednesday, two for her eight boys and two for her eight girls. Well, seven girls now that Brit is gone. But knowing Sue she’ll have that open space filled in no time. Kurt wonders lazily for a moment if Blaine would be interested in prostitution. Blaine is gorgeous, Kurt has always thought so and others have backed him up on the idea. And on the plus side Kurt would surely get to see him more.  
  
Kurt snickers quietly at the ridiculousness of the idea. Blaine is as likely to embrace prostitution as the pope is. Asinine ideas like that are born of boredom as Kurt sits and waits with Ethan, Jake, and Mike as Sue sits at the head of the table collecting her weekly 40%.  
  
“And finally Ethan, you’ve brought in 1100 this week” Sue says as she counts the $4400 from Kurt. Ethan never makes as much as the other men. He’s relatively inexperienced and Kurt might have very delicate features but Ethan positively looks like a child and it’s an acquired taste. Plus he’s still a student so he needs to fit his appointments around his lectures and studies.  
  
“No it’s just $1000” Ethan responds with his brow furrowed in confusion, and Kurt shares a knowing look with Mike. Calling Sue out on this sort of thing is never a good idea, especially in front of the other boys.  
  
“Infant,” Sue begins, lowering her reading glasses with a patronising smile. “Look at me, with my records, my account book, my laptop, and my legacy of providing the best escort service this city has seen since the days of Patty Lem’Fu. Now look at you with spinach in your teeth. It’s $1100.”  
  
Ethan blushes furiously, covering his mouth as he tries to clean his teeth out. Kurt can’t help but feel sympathy for him, he’s only been working for four months and is a good five years younger than Jake, Mike and himself. Sometimes Kurt feels like Ethan is Sue’s whipping boy.  
  
Ethan pushes his envelope tersely towards Sue with one finger. “I owe you $100.”  
  
“Yes you do,” Sue says seriously as she counts the bills before jotting something down in one of her books. “And another hundred for wearing your hair like that today. I’ll need to pay for therapy.”  
  
Ethan flushes again, shame faced and Jake outright snickers. Kurt glares at Jake and the blond man sneers back at him.  
  
“Now, take a good look at this.” Sue holds up a drawing of a middle aged man, heavily set with a beard and a moustache. “He booked an appointment with one of Figgins’ boys last week, managed to give the kid quite a beating before the heavies turned up.” The illusive Mr. Figgin’s had been Sue’s agent when she was still working and they’re still in contact despite Sue’s taking a lot of his business when she’d set up eleven years ago. They have a bit of a love/hate relationship. Maybe it’s a universal archetype for agents and their whores, or maybe it’s just Sue.  
  
“Looks like a terrorist so he’s probably from Queens,” Sue continues. “And he wears expensive shirts but has tattoos on his upper arms.”  
  
“Typical,” Jake snorts shaking his white blond head. “They get bored and tramp out here thinking they can handle high class escorts.”  
  
“You can’t say that, _I’m_ from Queens!” Mike insists. Kurt doesn’t know Mike very well- just that he’s flexible and ladies love him for his abs- but he can tell he’s genuinely pissed off. “That’s racist.”  
  
“You can’t be raciest against a location,” Jake answers flippantly.  
  
“No but you can be prejudiced,” Kurt puts in dryly as he examines his nails.  
  
“Fine, then I’m prejudiced,” Jake snaps, folding his arms as he goes into one of his legendary pouting fits. Apparently some clients go for that aloof thing he’s got going on.  
  
“Right so we’re all agreed you’re just a jerk!” Mike mutters.  
  
“Not that I don’t get a kick out of pitting a bunch of thirteen-year-old divas against each other but I’m trying to run a business here so **shut up**!” Sue interjects loudly and the four men jump.  
  
It certainly shuts the four of them up. Sue is an extremely cool customer and very rarely raises her voice, but when she does she can throw a tantrum that’s quite frankly dangerous.  
  
They collectively move back as Sue’s P.A Becky, places a tea tray in the center of the table, but no one other than Sue makes a move to pour anything.  
  
“What? Only me?” She asks as she pours a steaming cup. “Unacceptable. You’re all getting too puffy for my liking and this tea, gentlemen, is a calming mixture of berries, willow root, and ex-lax that does wonders for flushing the body. I will not tolerate slothfulness in my escorts. I will be firing one of you at random by the end of the week so I suggest you step it up.”  
  
Sue’s threats while insane are very serious. Kurt eyes the tea with foreboding but then he remembers Blaine’s words from the night before.  
  
_If you don’t be careful you’re going to end up collapsing with exhaustion, or with an eating disorder._  
  
Kurt reaches in his bag and grabs the bagel he’d packed that morning. He’s never done so in the past but that morning he had. Blaine’s concern has stuck with him. He’s right, Kurt hasn’t been taking care of himself like he should.  
  
Eating in front of Sue after that little speech is probably a mistake, Kurt thinks. Sue does indeed glare at him and jot something down in her notebook, but Kurt isn’t too bothered. He must have missed the e-mail about Cheerios moving from the lower east side to Nazi Germany- he was probably wasting his time poking Blaine on Facebook.  
  
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, if you’ve got an in-call then make sure you’re using your peephole, and for those who haven’t already I want you each to get video cameras for your front entrances,” Sue instructs. “You need to know who you’re letting into your building. If you get murdered I lose a ton of money and that is just unacceptable. If you’re on an out-call make sure you stand back from the hotel door or better yet meet them in the bar. Most of the top hotels in New York are crawling with escorts so you won’t get any hassle. If you still end up in danger then get the hell out any way you can, forget about the money and forget about calling the agency. Your safety is paramount! I can’t use a dead body boys, it’s illegal and it’s just plain weird.”  
  
Sue may make out sometimes that all she’s bothered about is the money and her reputation but when Kurt hears her talk like this, grave and heated, he realises that she really does care. He thinks it was because she was a prostitute herself so she’s been in their shoes, she understands the thrill as well as the danger. She also understands the painful part. Kurt remembers when he first started and Jason had been evicted after his landlord found out that he was on the game and having clients in his studio. Sue had put him up for nearly three weeks until he could find a new apartment and even let him have some in-calls in her house. Granted Jason to this day insists living with Sue was a nightmare but it had still been a nice gesture.  
  
The meeting comes to a close and Kurt stays behind as the other guys gather their things and leave. Hesitantly he approaches Sue who peers up at him questioningly.  
  
“Sue, have you heard anything about Alex from the other day?”  
  
“As a matter of fact I have,” Sue answers, deceptively chipper. “After your colossal screw up I called and managed to get him to agree to make another appointment. I gave him someone else. He was more _specific_ this time.” Kurt frowns pensively, clutching the straps of his handbag as she talks something hot and uncomfortable twisting in his gut.  
  
“I want to see him again,” he tells her in no uncertain terms. It’s nothing to do with pride (well, maybe a little). He’s a professional and when he does something wrong he aims to put it right just like in any other job. This is what Kurt does and he’s given up a lot to do it, he takes doing it well very seriously.  
  
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Sue smiles annoyingly. “He could turn into a nice little earner for the company and I can’t have your ghostly porcelain skin frightening him away again.”  
  
“Who’ve you given him to?”  
  
“Ethan. He wants boy next door. No designer suits, no toys, no styling products or make up which we both know you can’t function without. I don’t think you even own a T-shirt and jeans.” Kurt’s face goes from hesitant to shocked that quick.  
  
He’s competitive. He’s not ashamed to admit it and the fact that Sue would give one of his clients to Ethan of all people irritates him. Ethan with his fresh face and simplicity probably still blows bubbles in his chocolate milk and believes in Santa Claus.  
  
“Ethan? $100 short Ethan?” He snaps, still not quite able to believe it.  
  
“He didn’t want you Lady Face. Get over it”  
  
“And you think he’s going to want Ethan instead?”  
  
“Okay, Porcelain, I know what this is, but maybe you don’t so I’m going to tell you.” Sue rises from her seat with a grim smile in place. “You remind me of a young Sue Sylvester. You want to shine and no amount of opposition is going to stop you, but here’s where we differ. You’re soft.”  
  
Kurt scoffs and looks away from her because that hot uncomfortable feeling is only getting worse and for some reason her usually harmless tirade actually hurts.  
  
“You have emotions and this ridiculous thing called a heart that gets broken and bruised and it would just break and smash all into a hundred little pieces if the world didn’t want you.” Sue hammers mercilessly on. “Well, Sue Sylvester doesn’t care who wants her, doesn’t _need_ the world to love her because the reality is it won’t. In fact the more you want out of life the more it seems to hate you.”  
  
Kurt stares at her, appalled at the picture she paints with her words and fighting back a shiver as the truth of them settles around him. He feels cold and he doesn’t know what to do to get warm again.  
  
“So what am I supposed to do? Stop wanting, just start hating everybody?” _Like you do_ goes unsaid. They regard each other for a few moments in silence and Kurt realizes he is seeing more of who Sue Sylvester really is in these few moments than she’s probably shown anyone in years.  
  
“You care too much kiddo. I’d have thought by now you’d know better. Let someone else have a go. It’s not like you need the work. You’re brilliant at your job but even you aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. One Jake is more than enough for me to handle thank you very much. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got a ton of work to do so get the hell out of my house!”  
  
As if to emphasize her point her cell starts ringing.  
  
“Hello? Yes Mike is free. 6 o’clock at his apartment? Excellent, he looks forward to your company Tina.”  
  
Kurt almost admits defeat as Becky comes over to take away the largely untouched tea tray, and Sue hangs up her phone. But he can’t. He doesn’t know why but he can’t let this go, he has to take one last shot.  
  
“You’re right about one thing. I want to be good at this, the best even; but you’re wrong too. I’m not going to let it break me. Hopes, dreams, recognition, wanting those things isn’t weakness Sue. Hiding is.”  
  
Kurt leaves the conference room as composed as it’s possible to be after such a conversation. He still feels strangely sick inside, he’s still shakier than his liking, he probably just seriously overstepped with Sue and will pay for it later. His only consolation is seeing the relent in her eyes.

 

************

  
  
Kurt holds his phone under his ear as he talks to Sue, pulling his ass cheeks apart with one hand while he lubes up with the other.  
  
“Yeah there’s no problem” he tells her as he wipes his hands and refastens his jeans. It’s a lot easier than normal. They’re tight but not obscenely so.  
  
_“Okay call me in an hour.”_  
  
“Will do.” He hangs up and shoves his phone into his back pocket as he hears the bathroom door unlock. He sticks the money Alex gave him under the mattress and picks up the two beers he’d brought in from the fridge. Kurt prefers wine with his work but Sue made him promise to keep it casual. He heads back to the sitting room.  
  
Alex is currently sitting on the couch, fully clothed again. This isn’t looking good.  
  
Kurt smiles politely as he hands him the bottle which he accepts nervously.  
  
“I realize you were hoping for someone else this time,” he mentions as he sits down next to him. “Ethan’s sick. Tummy bug.”  
  
“No. No I think I’m glad,” Alex says with a shy grin before his eyes suddenly widen. “I didn’t mean that I’m glad he’s ill. I just mean….”  
  
“It’s okay I know what you meant,” Kurt assures him with a slight smile and reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Can I ask why Ethan?”  
  
Alex’s cheeks flush and he clears his throat. “I’ll be frank with you. I’ve never done this sort of thing and I honestly... I feel like shit. I guess I thought I could pretend I wasn’t doing what I was doing but then I got here and you looked so...”  
  
“Cheap?” Kurt asks, an edge he can’t seem to help entering his tone. It shouldn’t really bother him. If he’s looking for self validation he’s in the wrong business. Cheap is the tamest of the nasty insults he’s had tossed his way. Many of his clients insult him as part of the pleasure. Some want a filthy whore, and some like Alex would rather forget that they paid for it.  
  
Alex considers him for a tense moment and says almost to himself, “Exotic. Like a bird of paradise.”  
  
“Really?” Kurt asks, his mouth forming into a O of surprise. He’s never been called a bird before. Something about the strange compliment makes him flush inside with warmth.  
  
“Yes.” Alex grins sheepishly. “Have you ever been to the zoo and seen one of them? They’re so exquisite, but I never did think something like that belonged in a cage. Which is sort of the problem. I was with you, and I wanted you but...”  
  
“I’m a pretty bird in a cage?” Kurt finishes gently. Alex is one of those. He’s not the first client Kurt has ever had that thinks he needs to be rescued and he’ll certainly be far from the last. Usually he finds such presumption condescending and little more than an annoyance but he looks at Alex and feels an unexpected tenderness. The beautiful man beside him is sweet, if misguided.  
  
“It’s stupid I know” Alex laughs derisively at himself. “I mean what sort of pratt asks for an escort and then prattles on about cages? I don’t exactly feel like a saint right now but I want to feel something and if you’re willing I’d like it to be with you... but just you. Does that make sense?”  
  
It does, and it’s nothing Kurt didn’t do before he started escorting so it’s a simple enough request.  
  
“And you’ve got me. Almost completely ungroomed. You’re either fearless or a masochist,” Kurt jokes to hide the fact that he is unexpectedly unsettled. This whole encounter has been unsettling, but this last attempt to do right by Alex is especially so. He’s competitive yes but no matter what he told Sue she’s right, it shouldn’t matter that one man doesn’t want him, and he shouldn’t be willing to go to such lengths to change that.  
  
Porcelain would never be seen in what Kurt is wearing now because Porcelain isn’t the real Kurt, Porcelain is armor. Today Porcelain looks like Kurt the way only his closest friends and family ever see him. No designer suits or sensual silks. He’s wearing worn jeans (that might hug his ass but have a tiny hole on the right knee and a ketchup stain from that ballpark hot dog Blaine insisted he try at that Yankees game sophomore year), a plain blue t-shirt that hugs his chest, and sneakers. These are _his_ clothes. His rainy day when there’s nothing to do but stay in and watch mindless daytime television clothes.  
  
Kurt has stood naked in front of hundreds of men and never in his life has he felt so bare.  
  
“I actually really like it,” Alex tells Kurt, reaching to smooth back that one stubborn lock of hair that always falls across Kurt’s forehead. Kurt trembles and kicks himself internally for the silly response. He’s blushing and it’s far from contrived. What’s the matter with him? They are just clothes. So what if they’re his personal ones? Clothes are clothes and he must keep this professional.  
  
He yelps in surprise as Alex is suddenly on top of him, kissing him roughly all over his mouth before moving on to his neck. He lets loose and almost hysterical giggle when his brain catches up to his senses and he realizes Alex actually took a breath like he was diving into a pull of sharks. Kurt pulls him back up and kisses him vigorously, reclining so that he’s lying down and Alex is completely on top of him.  
  
Everything rushes past him, burning in his blood and fluttering in his stomach until he can’t differentiate between terror and pleasure. He can feel how hard Alex is and he’s rapidly hardening to match him.  
  
He actually whimpers as Alex pushes up his shirt and latches onto his nipples, biting down gently then soothing with his tongue. Kurt’s hands grasp for purchase on the couch, shaking uncharacteristically as Alex continues down his chest and torso, nibbling and kissing with every move.  
  
Kurt’s not thinking clearly, he knows that, neither of them are. This is different and even as he hates it something inside him opens up and drags it all in; needs it more than he needs to take another breath. He thrusts up eagerly as Alex mouths his cock through his jeans and he can practically feel the other man grinning triumphantly.  
  
He sits up as Alex undoes his jeans for him, pushing them down to mid thigh. Kurt is trying to get air, trying to bring his mind back into the moment, but it stays lost in a fog. Instead of focusing on things that matter it focuses on details that have no place in this room at this time.  
  
The rush of coolness as air washes over his lower body, the lone spot of color standing out against the acid wash. That’s a stain. He thinks about that stain. The way Blaine had laughed when Kurt had freaked out about it. The sheepish look on his friends face when Blaine brought them back from the cleaners, fished out of the trash and predictably still ruined. Somehow that time Kurt hadn’t been able to bring himself to throw them away again.  
  
He can only imagine what he must look like. Him, the professional, lying panting on the couch, his legs wide open and naked from the waist down with his cheap t-shirt pushed up to his chest and his eyes refusing to stop blinking. They kiss and they kiss and then they freeze and stare at each other.  
  
They both laugh almost manically, carried away on a swift tide of unbearable need that just comes and comes and won’t stop coming. Alex lubes him up before lying back and pulling Kurt on top of him, grabbing his ass cheeks with both hands to encourage him. He pulls Kurt’s legs around his waist before finally pushing into him. Everything inside Kurt burns and shivers and his senses hone in on that one brilliant bright sensation.  
  
“Jesus you’re so tight,” Alex pants as he immediately begins thrusting relentlessly. The words are muffled in Kurt’s ears, his mind far away dancing in a grey fog of colliding needs and memories. He needs so badly it sucks at his insides. He wants. It all spins and he can’t make sense of it. It’s lost in the scratch of jeans on his hips and fog so much fog.  
  
Jeans scratch soft skin... they’re eager so thirsty for each other... beautiful hands with long fingers made for tinkling away on piano keys stroke...  
  
Kurt’s thoughts scatter, a cry of pleasure is torn from him as Alex continually makes contact with his prostate. He breathes harshly, fighting for air, opening and closing his eyes as he tries again to see what is in front of him and not hazy dreams and smoke.  
  
A flash of white teeth...a glimpse of pink tongue as mouths open on a gasp... the beautiful contrast of black on white as he buries his hands in a sea of black curls.  
  
Kurt comes before Alex does, something an escort is never supposed to do and bites back a groan that might be a name, or a plea, he’s not sure which. He doesn’t have to worry about that this time as Alex comes with a loud cry only seconds after.  
  
Kurt lays there wrecked in a way he hasn’t been in a long time.  
  
“Wow,” Alex laughs as Kurt sits up, feeling well and truly fucked although he’s sure his back will be punishing him later. Alex blushes furiously but still smiles. It appears that the shy, nervous Alex is well indeed back.  
  
“You didn’t mind that did you….” he trails off. Kurt doesn’t immediately answer. He’s shaking and his thoughts are still darting every which way.  
  
“I..I..no. I’m fine. That was great,Alex. Really.” His eyes are too bright he knows but at least the smile doesn’t wobble. It will be true in a minute. He’ll be fine in a minute.  
  
And then that thing that all escorts hate happens.  
  
“You don’t have a boyfriend do you?”  
  
Kurt stares at him aghast and then bursts into laughter, but not the joyful kind.  
  
Alex blushes but seems pretty determined now. “I mean it. You’re really gorgeous, Porcelain. Somebody other than me surely noticed. You don’t have friends outside of this job? Don’t meet anyone in bars or anything like that?”  
  
“Alex I fuck people for a living.” Kurt tries to impress upon him. “In my spare time I like to play scrabble or sleep, or... I don’t know, do something that doesn’t involve fucking. A boyfriend is just pretty useless to me.” They fall silent after that and Kurt becomes keenly aware of his soreness and a deep desire to be left alone.  
  
“You look like him, Ricky I mean.”Alex says after a moment.  
  
“This would be the boyfriend you actually want?” Kurt asks, drawing his knees up to his chest as he tries to get his breathing under control.  
  
“We were together, for nearly a year. But he’s confused about things, not really ready to accept being gay. I knew that, knew he had a girlfriend, but I thought it would be okay... we’ve all got our issues.”  
  
Kurt bites his tongue, something souring inside at Alex’s admission. He’s mad at himself about that because he has no business reacting this way. It comes with the damn business, half his customers probably see a different face when they fuck him, but today it burns and it’s a burn he doesn’t like. He shouldn’t care that he just screwed someone while thinking of someone else, while the guy screwing him thought of yet another someone else. What the hell does it even matter?  
  
“So why are you here with me then?” Good, his voice is level.  
  
“His girlfriends pregnant,” Alex whispers sounding as dazed as Kurt feels.  
  
“Regina, a good friend of mine, she’s pregnant” Kurt informs him because apparently his personal barriers are broken along with his brain. He never talks about his personal life but as Regina Anderson-Bradey pops into his mind he remembers a time when he wore jeans with a ketchup stain and she teased him like a big sister. The words just pour out.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“She looks like a Volvo. She’s beautiful.” Kurt hears Alex chuckle behind him.  
  
“You’re beautiful, Porcelain” Alex presses a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder and he feels it burn through his shirt. “So, so beautiful.”  
  
“Kurt,” the word slips out unbidden.  
  
The hands still on Kurt’s shoulders and neither of them speak for several seconds. “Are you Kurt?”  
  
He stares straight ahead, not answering at first. The pieces of his brain are coming together, the fog is clearing and it may be a mistake but there’s no other choice Kurt can make. He needs this one thing. He takes a deep breath, and a chance.  
  
“Yeah, I am.”


	4. In a flash he was gone.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adult sex party or at home birth? As it turns out, one of these things is far more enjoyable than the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Josh Groban! I promise you I love Josh Groban and no harm was meant by his characterization in this fic. He guest starred on Glee and is in my opinion gorgeous so unfortunately he got mixed up in this mess lol.

It takes a few days but Kurt eventually manages to stop having nightmares that some TV camera crew are going to show up on his doorstep and broadcast to the entire world that Kurt Hummel has a secret life. It’s a horrible risk he took, telling Alex his real name, and he can’t afford mistakes like that.  
  
Yeah he understands why he did it, and no he doesn’t actually expect Alex to do anything other than what he’s doing and romanticize the giving of his name into something it’s not, but still. What he’d done was unacceptably stupid. It’s no excuse that he hadn’t had the usual distance his sleek and sexy designer clothes usually afford him. It had been too raw and too real, and too many of the lines had blurred but it doesn’t really mean more than that. What exactly it all means he hasn’t figured out, but he reminds himself whenever the feeling arises that there isn’t any need for panic or concern. It’s not exactly a shocker that he’d think of Blaine in the middle of it all when those jeans he’d been wearing were practically stained with him.  
  
Kurt resolves never to make the mistake again and moves on.  
  
There are a lot of reasons for Kurt to love his job: he gets paid to do things that he has _always,_ fantasized about – and more than a few things that he has never even _dared_. Tonight is a prime example; the most exclusive adult party happening in America the entire year; strictly invitation only.  
  
The guest list is highly competitive and to get an invitation you must fulfil six essential criteria: young, attractive, educated, rich and loaded with a sense of sexual adventure. The 6th criterion is how Kurt has ended up here: couples only. Genuine couples are preferred, so what’s a horny millionaire without a partner to do? Call an escort.  
  
As he gets ready to be picked up by the client from his apartment, Kurt feels the old fluttering in his tummy that he used to get before appointments when he first started escorting. Once he got into his stride and learned all the tricks of the trade that feeling of anticipation disappeared, but now for the first time in almost two years he really has no idea where the night might take him, anything could happen and he can barely contain his excitement. He is determined that tonight will prove once and for all that his break down was a result of nothing more than a lapse in judgment and not some sign indicating that everything is slowly falling apart.  
  
The client can barely keep his eyes off Kurt during the ride to the party, and it is only the presence of the limousine driver that keeps his hands off him. The clothes Kurt’s wearing are pretty out there even for him, but compared to some guests milling outside he’s dressed pretty conservatively. His skin-tight black leather pants are so low cut that they barely stay on his hips. Around his waist is a black silk cummerbund which cost more than the whole suit he used to wear when he was temping. He also wears a sheer white silk shirt and he finishes it off with a fitted black blazer fastened with a single button over his navel. On his feet he wears knee high boots over the leather pants; no heel but laces right up the front so the boots are practically moulded to his calves. It’s all very debauched Dickensian, not even Russell Brand would get away with it, but at this party he fits right in.  
  
“So what’s our story?” The client prompts as he takes Kurt’s hand to help him out of the limo. “Can you remember anything about me?” Oh please. As if Kurt doesn’t know exactly who he has on his arm right now.  
  
“You’re Yusef Makono, 37 years old, born in Israel and lived in London for sixteen years. You live and work in Paris primarily so you speak fluent french. We met at a jazz club and bonded over our mutual love of France.”  
  
“And about my work….”  
  
“Anyone with a brain and an appreciation for fashion knows that you’re a designer. You’re currently the go to guy for men’s fashion.” A fact that has Kurt more than a little impressed and slightly out of breath.  
  
“And what do _you_ do for a living?”  
  
“I’m a singer at that jazz club we met at.” Kurt chuckles. “You heard me sing and I sank my claws into you and won’t let go. Poor you.” Yusef throws back his head and laughs and Kurt feels smugly accomplished.  
  
They walk through the front door and down a dimly lit staircase, invitations in hand. It soon becomes clear just how big the house is, and Kurt can’t help but marvel at it. It just seems to go on forever. They finally come to the reception station, manned by a pretty young blond in a black corset and elbow length silk gloves, her hair scraped back into a tight bun.  
  
“Welcome, welcome,” she says in a cheeky sing song voice as they arrive. Yusef passes her their invitations which she carefully examines before ticking them off her list. There are two security guards behind the desk, twice the size of Sue’s heavies and they obviously mean business. These parties are so hard to get in to that they’re clearly expecting trouble when people are turned away.  
  
“Okay I need you to leave all mobile phones and any audio or visual recording equipment you may have.” She holds out a glass bowl for them to put their things in. As Kurt places his cell phone in she informs them, “there’s a hotline that you can be contacted on in the event of an emergency. This number was sent out with your invitations.”  
  
They both nod in understanding as she pushes the grand doors open before stepping back and allowing them to enter. The room beyond is huge, it sparkles with gold and crystal covering both the decor and the gorgeous people that fill it. The walls are high, leading to an ornate ceiling and are painted deep red and dotted with fairy lights. Black leather furniture is scattered around. In the middle is a stage which Kurt presumes will host some sort of music and erotic show later in the evening.  
  
Scantily clad waiting staff are carrying trays of expensive champagne. Kurt takes a flute of champagne from a particularly hot waiter because he can. He can’t get his heart to stop pounding. Yusef smiles knowingly at the bright smile Kurt can’t seem to keep from blooming on his face despite his attempts to look haughty and above it all.  
  
As they float around it becomes apparent to Kurt that adult parties for the rich and famous aren’t that different from regular parties. There are the people who want to be the center of attention, the shy guests who hang about in the shadows, the people who have just come because their partner insisted, those who have had too much to drink and have lost their inhibitions far too early. And of course the huge trendy group who know and network with everyone, including the hosts.  
  
Kurt and Yusef wander curiously into the next room. Like any other party there’s always an separate area where the _real_ fun happens. The room contains several giant sofas and beds with red netting around them as well as a massive cushion in the middle that could easily take three or four couples. There is currently only one couple fucking at the far end of the room against the mirrored wall, but the smell of sex permuting the room is already overwhelming, and Kurt finds it unashamedly intoxicating.  
  
He purrs in delight, leading Yusef towards the chaise lounge on their right before stretching out on it. He opens his legs, laid out for Yusef’s view and dances his fingers across his thighs and over the stark erection his leather pants do nothing to hide.  
  
“You’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear,” he whispers breathily as he pulls Yusef on top of him. Yusef’s steady hands undo the ties on Kurt’s trousers, kissing his stomach as he pulls downward and Kurt wiggles until his hard cock springs free.  
  
“It’s still early,” the older man murmurs as he takes Kurt’s cock in his hand.  
  
“We’ve got all night,” Kurt reminds him, thrusting up into his hand. “What do you want to do to me?”  
  
“What I really want,” Yusef whispers as he kisses Kurt’s lips, his hand still on his cock. “Is to wait, maybe all night while all these men and women indulge in their carnal pleasures. And then when we get home, when you’re painfully hard and dripping wet and out of your mind with need, then I will fuck you.”  
  
Kurt’s eyes widen at his words, and then again for far less pleasant reasons at the feeling of cold metal against his hot flesh. He hears a familiar click and then the sensation of being constricted. He looks down as Yusef pulls away. Kurt can’t believe it. Yusef has actually put a cock ring on him!  
  
“Don’t want you getting carried away, do we precious?” He smiles as he tucks Kurt back in, which due to the fact that he nearly had to paint these paints on proves very difficult. It was a tight fit to begin with. Kurt looks down at the size of his bulge and sighs. So much for being inconspicuous.  
  
Not that he particularly minds everyone knowing how turned on he is but it’s downright unfair that he can’t do a damn thing about it. This is the adult party of the decade with sex quite literally all around and he’s getting his wrist slapped and told not to touch anything.  
  
He manages to smile sweetly through gritted teeth as Yusef leads him back into the main room but inside he’s fuming. He knows this is supposed to be all about the client and maybe it was stupid to have forgotten that for a moment but when is he ever going to be invited to a party like this as himself?  
  
“Look at all these men,” Yusef whispers as he snakes his arms round Kurt’s waist from behind. “They all want you but they can’t have you. Only I get to fuck you.”  
  
This is not the first time a client has treated Kurt like a possession. It’s actually a daily part of his life, but suddenly Yusef’s hands on him are frustrating Kurt and pissing him off, not turning him on in the least as they had only moments before. The night which had started so brilliantly, which had glittered and sparkled around him like a dream, seems to be dissolving and that is the most frustrating thing. Honestly.  
  
Why? What a waste.  
  
Kurt leaves Yusef chatting with another couple as soon as he can and saunters off on his own under the pretence of going to get them more drinks. He’s so distracted with his own thoughts (not to mention lingering sexual frustration) that he walks straight into a fellow guest as he tries to get past him, effectively spilling champagne down his vest.  
  
“Shit I’m really sorry!” The stranger apologises as he grabs a napkin and tries to dry the both of them off. Kurt is so sexually frustrated that even this simple touch is going straight to his groin. Still he’s polite. No need to ruin someonelses night.  
  
“No it was my fault,” he insist. “I was in my own little world.”  
  
Kurt pushes the napkin aside and as he looks up their eyes meet for the first time. Kurt is immediately sucked into beautiful dark eyes framed by incredibly long lashes. The face isn’t stunning, interesting at best, but the way he smiles coupled with that mass of wispy dark hair makes Kurt want to hug him and lick him in turns. By the way the stranger smiles back at him Kurt is relatively sure the sentiment is mutual. Then something distracts him with his group, and he leaves Kurt with a wink.  
  
As he walks away Kurt can’t help but stare. The guys suit is polished without being overdone and his trousers do wonderful things for his ass. He has rejoined his friends now, two women and one other guy, all of them beautifully dressed. One of the women, a sexy Latina, is wearing a dress that barely covers her thighs and a seriously beautiful pair of heels that make her long legs seem to go on for days. That decides it for Kurt. He’s going over if only to ask her how much she wants for them.  
  
He slowly approaches the group sitting on the leather couch talking animatedly.  
  
“Have you seen An Inconvenient Truth? Very thought provoking, and scary!” One of the women is saying. “I mean I feel so guilty, I regularly take semi short haul flights!”  
  
“Hi,” Kurt greets as he reaches the group, causing the conversation to halt.  
  
“Oh hey. We met just a bit earlier didn’t we?” The stranger asks and Kurt nods.  
  
“You threw champagne on my vest. Thankfully it’s black. If you’d have ruined this shirt they’d have had to carry you out of this party on a stretcher because it’s Armani.”  
  
The stranger blinks slowly then laughs, shifting over so Kurt can squish between him and the woman he’s with (the Latina), who shoots Kurt with the best bitch look he has seen in a long time.  
  
“I’m Josh by the way, Josh Groban and this is Santana Lopez my girlfriend.” The stranger introduces himself and the woman next to him. Santana’s eyes rake over Kurt and smirk. Suddenly Kurt gets the feeling she knows exactly who he is and what he does. He winces but just as quickly stiffens his spine and returns her stare. He doesn’t owe this woman a thing and he’s not ashamed of who he is. Let her smirk. Kurt looks down his nose at her, turning away to address Josh.  
  
“So Josh, what is it that you do?” He asks scooting closer to him on the couch.  
  
“Oh please,” Santana mutters as Josh blushes.  
  
“Well sing mostly,” he answers. “But lately I’ve been focusing on record producing.” Before Kurt can say anything in reply Santana interjects.  
  
“And just what is it _you_ do baby face?”  
  
For a moment Kurt is tempted to answer with the truth just to show her how little her barbs sting, but he does have a client floating somewhere out there and as much as Kurt can’t stand him right now, he’s a professional. “I sing at a jazz club actually. Do you know what that is?” At his rather bitchy response Santana just scowls.  
  
“So what’s your name?” Josh asks, clearly oblivious to the battle going on between Kurt and his date.  
  
“Porcelain, Porcelain Ward.” Kurt answers with a coy smile as Josh ponders his unusual name.  
  
“Is that a stage name?” He asks after a moment and next to him Santana rolls her eyes.  
  
“Don’t tell anyone but yes,” Kurt answers with a wink.“I like to present an air of mystery, like Madonna. You know, make everyone wonder.” Josh laughs and leans in a bit closer.  
  
“You know you have a beautiful speaking voice,” he compliments. “What’s your vocal range?”  
  
“Counter tenor.” Kurt shifts even closer, so close that he’s now only inches from Josh’s face. “It’s pretty rare.”  
  
“Here you are.” They both pull back quickly when Yusef appears behind the couch. Kurt schools his expression into something pleasant when Yusef’s hand lands on his cheek and strokes. “He’s very beautiful, isn’t he?”  
  
“He certainly is,” Josh never takes his eyes off Kurt. For someone with a girlfriend he doesn’t seem to have too much of a problem checking out another man right in front of her.  
  
Kurt plasters on a smile as he turns to face Yusef. He can see Josh smirking, barely containing his laughter. “Darling, Josh and I were about to go for a walk if you’d like to join us.”  
  
“I don’t think so,” Yusef decides immediately, pulling Kurt up as he comes around the front of the couch. “Come on, I’ll give you one of my world famous shoulder massages.”  
  
So off Josh goes, no doubt to engage in some exclusive adult fun while Kurt is sat with Mr. Possessive, receiving a shoulder massage that might be famous but isn’t particularly great. A lot of his clients have great hands but to this day the best back rub Kurt has ever received is from Blaine. Even when they were together there was no sexual element to his massages, they are designed to soothe and comfort.  
  
“He likes you. But he can’t have you,” Yusef painfully reminds him. “Only I can have you.”  
  
Again with the possessive streak. Kurt wonders just why Yusef thought this was a good place to bring a date if he can’t handle sharing. He’s very quickly getting fed up with this but what can he do about it but sit there smiling stiffly like a porcelain doll?  
  
“They’re still looking.” Yusef whispers lewdly. “They can all see how hard you are, just for me. They’re all so jealous of me. They want to finger…and lick…and fuck your naughty little hole but they can’t.” Kurt cringes internally at the other mans attempts at dirty talk. This evening is rapidly going down hill to the point that he feels like he’s in a bad porno and that’s really saying something considering his day to day life.  
  
He catches Josh’s sympathetic glance as he returns with Santana. He sits watching Kurt intently, and Kurt stares back.  
  
“Yusef,” Santana perks up with a smile so sly Kurt actually feels a bit of fear. “Your boy here was telling us earlier that he’s a singer?”  
  
“Yes. Porcelain is a beautiful singer. I heard him sing and I knew I wanted many many more of such performances.” Yusef boasts with so much suggestion in his tone that Kurt looks to the ceiling and fights a sigh.  
  
“Oh my god that’s fabulous! Because Josh and I were supposed to perform later but you know, everyone has heard us, it’s boring. Why not spice it up? You should do a number to open us up Ward. I bet you’d be _really_ good at that.” Santana smirks, tossing her long black hair and Kurt stares through her spine stiff and head held high. He hasn’t sung in public since college and he’s actually not all that keen on doing it in this setting but he can hear the contempt dripping from the woman’s tone and he will not allow her to push him around. She thinks she’s backed him into a corner but she’s wrong.  
  
“And he sings too. You Yusef are a lucky man,” Josh says with a wistful sigh and Kurt glares at him because he knows exactly what he’s doing. Predictably Yusef swells beneath the envy of his peers and strokes Kurt’s cheek again. Kurt has to bite his cheek to prevent from biting Yusef’s hand.  
  
“Of course Porcelain must sing. Nothing would give me greater joy.” Kurt tries to think of anyone who is a bigger tool than the guy stroking him like he’s a damn dog and comes up dry. For all he knows after all Kurt might not be able to carry a tune in a bucket. Lucky for them both he can.  
  
Kurt uses the pretense of preparing for his performance as a reason to avoid Yusef after that. Not that it’s much of a pretense. Throwing together a number that the hired musicians can play and the dancers can dance to in a way that is both sexually arousing (this is an adult party after all) and not also completely ridiculous in just under an hour is not exactly easy work.  
  
The band suggests all sorts of trashy pop and club music and though Kurt can sing any one of them well, once he’s in the thick of things he can’t help but want to make this his, to make this performance more than a glorified strip tease. The prospect of performing on a stage for a real crowd is enough to bring a little of the shine back in his eye as well as some of that anticipation from earlier in the night.  
  
You see he dreams of this sometimes. The glitter of the chandeliers, the plinging of the piano and tapping of shoes as feet dance in a symphony of rhythm. Kurt can no more sit still when the music starts than he can stop his own heart beating. And what he absolutely can not do the moment someone says sing, is close his mouth and stupor the song that erupts from deep inside. Blaine used to say that music and Kurt were synonyms.  
  
And with that thought just like that Kurt is back in a tiny auditorium with the house lights dimmed, sashaying his way across the stage, his eyes on Blaine where he sits on a piano bench watching Kurt with fever in his eyes.  
  
And Kurt knows exactly what song he needs to sing.

  
  
*******

  
Kurt walks onto the stage with confidence despite Santana’s pointed smirk and her whispers that this at least should be hilarious. He won’t let her spoil this for him. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed since he’d last performed. It was never something Kurt had decided _not_ to do. At least not in so many words.  
  
After college he’d accepted the fact that big dreams of Broadway and all that were unrealistic, that it was a goal simply out of reach, but it wasn’t like he’d decided never to sing again. So why hasn’t he? Why _didn’t_ he? When he was sitting there temping in that office, going crazy inside his own head, why didn’t he sing? When he’d been so turned inside out that he was desperate for any sort of recognition, to do anything that was different from his monotonous routine, why didn’t he sing?  
  
He hears Blaine’s voice again, from the other day, asking him the same question.  
  
 _“You’d be stellar at it.”_  
  
Kurt wants to sing now, needs to sing now, and as he faces the audience and waits for the first notes he searches the crowd for a face he knows will not be there and wishes. Kurt closes his eyes and the room melts away. He’s back in a dark auditorium, his only audience a boy perched on a piano bench.  
  
 _Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell  
Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high  
Mama's dancin' with baby on her shoulder  
The sun is settin' like molasses in the sky  
The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything  
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for  
  
Blaine slapped his jean clad thigh along to the beat with a bright smile, nodding encouragingly as Kurt got a feel for the music. It wasn’t the sort of song Kurt was usually into but Blaine was convinced that not only would it suit Kurt’s voice, that it would also be a great audition piece. Kurt wasn’t even sure if he had time for community theater what with his temping job and he felt ridiculous standing up on the stage all by himself with no music and no costume; but he kept his eyes on Blaine and his obvious enthusiasm helped Kurt’s nerves melt away.  
  
Black velvet and that little boy's smile  
Black velvet with that slow southern style  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees  
Black velvet if you please  
  
Kurt closed his eyes, feeling the music flow through his blood, pounding in his heart and flowing down into his hips as he swayed back and forth to the sultry beat of it. His skin felt hot like a living thing and too constricted by his clothing. He felt like an animal trying to writhe out of its own skin, a butterfly eating its way out a cocoon. He raised his arms, hips stirring up a breeze, his hands reaching to grasp it as he followed the beat. He loved the slow delicious heat of it, the power behind the words he sang. He opened his eyes and found Blaine’s. That beautiful bright hazel loved it too.  
  
Up in Memphis the music's like a heatwave  
White lightening, bound to drive you wild  
Mama's baby's in the heart of every school girl  
  
Their gaze went unbroken as Kurt moved towards Blaine, danced for him, sang for him and as he reached the bench something inside him seemed to shake._  
  
That spring when the clock had chimed six-six long hours, six long days, nearly six long months. He’d known the truth. What he knew now as he repeated the performance was that years might have past but nothing had really changed. Not that.  
  
"Love me tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle  
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true  
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for  
  
 _Kurt danced away from Blaine with his heart racing in his chest and a fine tremble going through his limbs.  
  
Black velvet and that little boy's smile  
Black velvet with that slow southern style  
A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees  
Black velvet if you please  
  
But he looked back. Kurt couldn’t help but always look back. Blaine watched him, eyes dark with a need that was frankly terrifying. Kurt felt itchy, restless, hot and then cold all over, suffocating in his own skin. He thought of the peace of release and the simpleness of sweaty limbs entwining together and felt hunger. He thought of the mindlessness of fucking a stranger without a face. And then he looked back at Blaine whose face he sees whether his eyes are open or closed, whether there is light or dark, and Kurt knew that his heart was going to break._  
  
It happend quietly, without any fuss, without any screaming or tears. It had split like bread and lay there until the snow came to bury it.  
  
Kurt stands center stage just as he did over two years ago, his eyes fixed on the unattainable; an arm outstretched, his hand reaching as if he can grab what he so desperately wants and hold it to him.  
  
 _Every word of every song that he sang was for you  
In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon,  
what could you do?_  
  
**********************************  
  
Kurt barely hears the applause, or Santana’s snide comments that he was apparently pretty talented for a whore, and he laughs at her warning to stay away from her man. She can’t know how little he cares just then. As Kurt walks away from the stage he ignores her and he ignores Josh and all the other people wanting his attention.  
  
It is a bit ironic considering this is what Kurt has always wanted, what he realized he craved so recklessly when he quit his job and started this life. But just then he doesn’t care, not about Josh, not about Yusef, and certainly not the damn party anymore; no matter how much it glitters. Tonight he just wants to go home. Hopefully he’ll feel better in the morning and all of this will be gone.  
  
Then Kurt remembers Yusef and just as quickly he knows that if he has to sit there the rest of the night with that asshole petting him and talking dirty in his ear and then go home and fuck him he’ll snap. Kurt honestly questions whether in the heat of rage he’d be above strangling him but he’d rather avoid the issue altogether. It’s time for escape, not easily done when someone has already paid you for an entire evening and your boss will kill you if you don’t deliver, but luckily Kurt is nothing if not crafty.  
  
He spots one of the waiters smiling at him appreciatively and thinks it’s time for a little flirting.  
  
After he cohorts with the waiter (and takes off that god awful cock ring) he heads back to Yusef acting like he’s been searching for him the entire time and not actively avoiding him.  
  
“I’m going to fuck you so hard later,” Yusef tells Kurt as he stares straight ahead, watching as the people talking and drinking deplete and the people fucking in the play room increase. “I’m going to reward you for making all these men want you, you naughty little boy. In my spare time I run marathons, you know what that means?”  
  
 _‘You’re sweaty, exhausting and take hours to complete’_ Kurt thinks glumly, but obviously it’s something he can never say. He tries to simper through his gritted teeth. “What does that mean?”  
  
“Stamina.” Yusef informs him with pride. “I can go all night if I want to.” Kurt looks to the ceiling and prays to a god he doesn’t believe in.  
  
He’s about to scream in irritation when he finally spots his trusted waiter approaching, the light at the end of what has become a very dark tunnel.  
  
“Excuse me, Porcelain Ward?” he asks just like they’d rehearsed.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“We’ve a call for you on our emergency hotline.” It’s amazing what a little fellatio can get a guy.  
  
“Thanks for this” Kurt says to the waiter as he hides Kurt in the kitchen while he takes his ‘emergency phone call’.  
  
“Dude you’re welcome, you’ve more than repaid me.” The waiter says with a smug smile. Kurt eyes his oiled arms and what he can see of his chest through his open vest appreciatively. He wonders what his name is. He’s just thinking the guys mohawk is strange for such a high end wait staff when Mohawk asks “Can I have your number?”  
  
“I don’t really date honey,” Kurt tells him apologetically, which isn’t a lie. What’s with his clients wanting to date him all of a sudden?  
  
“Oh I know,” the guy reassures. “Cause you’re totally a hooker. Dude I can tell, you have some serious skills, like Jedi of sex skills. I want the number for your agency.”  
  
“I don’t think you could afford us.” Kurt sounds snippy he knows, but he’s unsure whether the stream of nonsense coming out of this guys mouth offends him or just baffles him but he’s leaning on the offends side. Yeah he has no real reason to be angry that this guy pegs him as a hooker just by the way he’s willing to blow him without knowing his name first, but tonight seems to be the night for being angry over shit that he’s previously been comfortable with.  
  
“I’m not just a waiter you know!” Mohawk says with mock offence. “I’m just doing this to put myself through drama school. All this work and actually having to do classes and shit really throws off a guys mojo. It’s like my brain has to use so much energy to think, it like forgot how to be a sex god. I used to be a total sex god in highschool.”  
  
“Uh-huh...” Kurt’s beginning to think this guy is mentally challenged.  
  
“You went to some sort of hooker school right? They probably know tons of things about sex the rest of us have only dreamed of.”  
  
“Well we do, but you do know there’s no such thing as hooker school? There isn’t any sort of degree you get for learning how to have an orgasm when you’re not the slightest bit turned on.” Though there really should be, especially for guys because it’s extremely difficult. Girls have it so easy. The guys face falls so slack Kurt actually thinks for a moment his brain has shut down.  
  
“That’s so hot. You’re like Luke Sexmaster or something.”  
  
“Okay. Well in that case here you go!” Kurt scribbles Cheerios number on a napkin just to stop the guy putting sex and Star Wars in the same category ever again. He thinks enough time has passed to convince Yusef he really did take a phone call. “So you’re an actor. How’s this face?” Kurt asks Mohawk as he frowns slightly.  
  
“That look says you just failed a chem test. Really good.”  
  
“How about this?” Kurt frowns a little more and pulls his best kicked puppy face.  
  
Mohawk shakes his head. “Dude too much; do what you were doing before. You look like you just found out your best friend screwed your girlfriend and got her pregnant. I’d know that look anywhere.” Kurt stares at him in utter confusion.  
  
“I will... bear that in mind. Mr....”  
  
“Oh it’s Noah, Noah Puckerman. Everyone just calls me Puck.”  
  
“Okay. Goodbye, Puck. This has been sufficiently awkward.”  
  
As he heads back to Yusef, Kurt thinks to himself that it’s a shame such a good looking guy obviously got dropped on his head as a baby. As for the matter at hand. You may think that because Kurt is an escort that no matter how he’s feeling, or when he does or doesn’t want it, that he’s forced to lay down and take it. You’re mostly right but you’re also a little bit wrong. No matter what your profession there is one line that will get you out of _anything_ , plus people won’t ask too many questions.  
  
“Personal reasons?” Yusef reiterates after Kurt tells him the bad news.  
  
“I’m afraid so,” Kurt nods with his best sad face. “So I’m going to have to leave. Obviously you’ll be fully reimbursed.”  
  
“That’s hardly the point Porcelain.” Yusef’s tries not to show his annoyance and fails miserably. Unlike Kurt he has no reason to mask his emotions. “This is most unsatisfactory.”  
  
“Again, I’m really sorry.” Kurt says solemnly before turning on his heels and walking out to the reception area. He collects his phone and gets out of the party as fast as he possibly can, unable to stop himself from breaking out into a huge grin.  
  
He feels like he’s being naughty, like he’s skipping school to watch project runway, or recover from a hangover. Kurt calls for a cab and breathes a sigh of relief that this horrendous night is almost over. He turns his mind to Cheerios, and prepares to call in and let them know he’s bailed on the appointment. They need to know for both safety and business reasons. He needs to think of some personal calamity that will appease Sue enough that she won’t actually string him up by his balls as she has threatened to do on more than one occasion.  
  
As he turns on his phone Kurt notices that he has seven voicemails, _seven_. Seeing as Sue doesn’t know he’s ditching his client yet there is no reason for them to be work related and as Kurt realizes this his heart leaps into his throat. His brain supplies at least a hundred tragic scenarios involving friends and family that could have happened while he was out of reach at that damned fiasco of a party.  
  
“Oh my god” he sighs as he listens to the messages; four from Blaine, one from Kurt’s Dad wondering why Blaine has called him twice looking for Kurt, one from Tyler ( Blaine’s sister Regina’s husband) and two more from Blaine. “I don’t believe this.”  
  
*************************  
  
“Kurt, where the hell have you been?” Blaine asks as Kurt drags himself out of the taxi, handing the driver a twenty and not bothering to wait for any change. “I’ve been ringing you for hours! I even tried calling your dad. And what are you wearing?”  
  
Kurt grits his teeth as he walks quickly with Blaine towards Regina and Tyler’s house. On top of an already horrible night he now has to deal with the guilt that a close friend of his has gone into a particularly difficult labor, and that her brother who just happens to be Kurt’s best friend in the world has had to deal with possibly losing both baby and mother all by himself while Kurt has been unreachable because of the likes of Yusef. This has been the worst night of his life and guilt is only making it worse.  
  
“I’m sorry. I really am, but can we just _not_ right now.”  
  
“Sure Kurt.” Blaine agrees with all sorts of bite in his voice as he jerks open the front door. “We can just not talk about this too. It can be one more thing we never talk about.” Kurt stops in his tracks.  
  
“Look! I get it. I’m an asshole. I fail! I failed you! I fail you all the damn time. I fail. I fail. I fail. I got the message loud and clear. Six of them Blaine, while I was sitting on the train for two and a half hours wanting to be here! I had to wait twenty five minutes for a taxi from the station, and it’s pouring outside while I’m wearing Armani. I’ve had a night like you wouldn’t believe and I’m a jerk and you hate me I get it, but could you just back off for one second?!”  
  
“Back off?” Blaine practically hisses and Kurt has never seen him like this. Even when he caught Kurt screwing another man he was more composed than he is now and that just makes everything worse because Kurt knows he should have been here. Kurt wants to reach out and smooth his hair as it’s sticking up everywhere like Blaine’s been digging his hands through it. He wants to rub his shoulders, or just hold them so that Blaine will stop twitching like he’s being bitten by fire ants, or so that maybe both of them can breathe and avoid saying things they don’t mean.  
  
“I’m sorry Kurt, I didn’t realize I was supposed to be giving _you_ space right now when it’s my sister who could have died tonight.”  
  
He’s right, Kurt knows he is. He has no right to be angry with Blaine right now when he’s the one with secrets and a double life that keeps him from being there when his friends need him the most. But all of that is so much easier to shift through and accept when you’re dry and sober the morning after and not when you’re cold and wet and already wrecked inside standing in the middle of it.  
  
“Do not yell at me okay! I’m sorry I didn’t get here in enough time to hold your hand Blaine but I didn’t think that was my job anymore. Why isn’t Jeremiah here?” The words once they are out seem to echo in both their heads and Kurt winces. He knows a mistake when he hears it.  
  
He wants to take it back instantly, because what kind of a person is he really when his best friend has been through a shock and all he can do is poke at the wound? But it seems to be a night for uncontrolled emotions because that anger that has been building in him all night is overflowing; and even as it horrifies him that it should be Blaine who it pours on, he can’t seem to stop it either.  
  
“Jeremiah had to work Kurt that’s-.”  
  
“Bullshit! I was working Blaine, but that didn’t stop you from leaving six messages on _my_ phone. You know my work schedule is nuts. You know I don’t always answer my phone and you still called. You’re angry because it’s me you wanted here, and me who just spent hours getting here and not the person it should have been.”  
  
“Do not Kurt. Do not turn this around on me. You’re my best friend! Of course I wanted you here.”  
  
“And I’m here. I don’t see your boyfriend here. I don’t see Rachel, Mercedes or any of our other friends here, just me! I think before you yell at me you should figure out just what the hell it is you want from me!” Kurt shouts and Blaine looks thunderous for a moment. He opens his mouth as if he might say something more and lets out a frustrated noise that isn’t actually words. Then he sighs and the anger and frustration on his face bleeds away until he just looks exhausted.  
  
“I know I don’t want to fight with you Kurt. I know I want you to be here with me.” He says softly and there isn’t going to be a time when the way those hazel eyes can plead won’t pull at Kurt. He sighs and steps close, giving in to that impulse to fix Blaine’s hair.  
  
“No, no stop that. I’m sorry. I had a shit night and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m so sorry, Blaine. I know how hard this must have been.” Kurt tucks a loose curl behind Blaine’s ear, holding his head and drawing it up until their gazes meet. “But Regina wanted to have the baby at home remember? We knew it was going to be difficult, and yeah it’s been more difficult than everyone expected but the point is she’s okay Blaine. Both she and the baby are okay and she needs her family to keep it together right now.”  
  
“An at home birth without any pain relief, only Regina” Blaine murmers with the first hint of a smile Kurt has seen and there’s a moment that stretches painfully where all he wants to do is lean forward and kiss him. Thankfully someone arrives before he can be that incredibly stupid.  
  
“There you two are. Is there a reason you’re standing in the doorway letting the rain in?” They both jump apart at the sound of Blaine’s mothers voice. Kurt’s face splits into a smile. It’s there where he stands soaking wet in ruined Armani that Kurt fully understands how much of his life he’s been letting slip away working so much. As Elaine Anderson sweeps him up into a hug and reaches up to pecker his cheeks with two firm kisses Kurt feels the hazy warmth that only comes with being at peace and at home.  
  
You may or may not have attended college far from home but if you have you remember the long weekends and holidays that were too short to spend money on expensive flights home, and too important to spend wasted in a dorm room. Those are the days Kurt spent right here in Dobbs Ferry, New York with the Anderson’s.  
  
“I’m so glad you could make it Kurt,” she says giving Kurt one last squeeze before ushering them fully inside. “What kept you?” She asks.  
  
“I was at an office party” Kurt explains taking her arm as she leads them down the hall. “I had my phone off or I would have been here sooner. I’m sorry. How are you holding up?”  
  
“Fine, now that the danger is past. And you shouldn’t apologize, no one could have predicted Regina would go into early labor.”  
  
“She would find a way to prevent me from getting her one of those fabulously glittery cards. I promised her I’d find one with pink ponies that screamed it’s a boy when you open it up. They have to have one somewhere.” Mrs. Anderson throws back her head and laughs and beside them Kurt sees Blaine smile and shoot him a grateful look.  
  
“I’m the better brother clearly since I had time to get her one,” he says with a teasing smile and Kurt stares down his nose at him.  
  
“You’re the little brother she got stuck with. I’m the one she chose. She told me so. That obligates you to let me sign your card.” There’s more laughter as they climb the stairs to Regina and Tyler’s bedroom to find Regina sat in bed, Tyler by her side and Blaine’s father sitting proudly on a chair brought up from the dining room. Regina’s cradling an unmistakeable bundle in her arms looking every bit the doting mother, if somewhat sick looking. Her hair is plastered to her head with sweat and she is very pale but Kurt doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.  
  
“Hey,” he whispers as he enters the room, Blaine and his mother not far behind him.  
  
“Jesus! Kurt?” Tyler gasps with wide eyes as he takes in Kurt’s appearance.  
  
“You know it’s pretty rude to look so gorgeous when I look like crap Kurt.” Regina says, laughing weakly but happily as Kurt approaches the bed.  
  
“You just had a baby for Christ's sake. No one expects you to look anything other than shit for days,” he responds softly as he kisses her cheek before shaking Tyler’s hand.  
  
“That’s true,” Regina smiles tiredly, she looks behind Kurt and spots Blaine. “But between you and Tyler I better hear how much I look like a goddess daily or I promise you one of you will die. And since I’d like my son to have a father I kind of need him around. So that means you Blaine will die.”  
  
Kurt is laughing as he moves so Mrs. Anderson and Blaine can go back to admiring the baby and sits down on an empty seat next to Mr. Anderson. “Hey Grandpa. Are you sure you’re ready for this, adding to the motley crew I mean?”  
  
“It’s not like we have much of a choice.” Blaine’s father replies, rubbing his ashy blond head. “First Blaine kept bringing his friends home like stray puppies, and I told Elaine if she fed them they would just keep coming back. But did she listen?” Kurt grins at the old joke.  
  
“Nope. And here we are today. I’ve got my very own corner to sleep in and no one can stop me stealing your shoes.” Blaine’s father snickers.  
  
“And now I’ve got a grandson when I specifically told that girl that she could grow up and start having babies when we’re both dead.”  
  
“Not so much to ask.” Kurt commiserates fighting a smile. He truly has missed this.  
  
“I want those brown shoes back by the way. Blaine wouldn’t have borrowed them so I know it had to be you. They were a gift from Lainy and she’d kill me if she thought I’d lost them.”  
  
“You mean the pair of Giorgio Baccini’s?” Kurt asks and when Mitchell nods (a tad uncertainly) he full out grins. “I have no idea what you’re talking about sir.”  
  
By the time everyone has finished gushing over Regina and the baby it’s almost three in the morning and Blaine and Kurt are both absolutely exhausted (so you can only imagine how tired Regina is). Mr. Anderson drives them all (minus the new mother and father) back to the family house on the other side of town so that Blaine and Kurt can get some rest before heading back to New York City in the morning.  
  
“Is it just me or were you far too dressed up just for a party at work?” Blaine asks as Kurt emerges from the bathroom across from Blaine’s childhood bedroom and stands in the doorway wearing a pair of Blaine’s old sweatpants and a t-shirt.  
  
“I take every opportunity to look as fabulous as I can.” Kurt answers somewhat defensively as he crawls into bed next to him. Blaine shifts over to give him more room and Kurt is struck by just how much he appreciates Blaine’s presence, knowing that he’s going to fall asleep next to him without sex being a factor. Sometimes he just needs to be near someone, not just physically.  
  
“I forgot. Heaven forbid Kurt Hummel not be the best dressed at a party.” Blaine retorts playfully, nudging Kurt with his elbow.  
  
“Says our resident hipster,” Kurt replies as he sticks a finger between Blaine’s ribs and smirks as Blaine yelps and writhes away from the offending touch. This predictably ends in a tickle fight, and Kurt can’t believe he’s twenty six years old having tickle fights with his best friend in his childhood bed. The crazy thing is how good it feels, how it makes the horrible night he had seem distant and inconsequential.  
  
“You know, I didn’t think I’d get to say this again after you turned twenty but if you can’t keep it down son, I’m afraid I’ll have to drive your friend home.” Blaine and Kurt sit up, their laughter as well as their fight cut short, to find Mr. Anderson leaning against the doorway watching them with amusement and an indescribable something else on his face.  
  
“You know what, I’ll be the bigger man. You win Kurt, because I totally have to pee.” Blaine says as he gets up from the bed still grinning. “But I will point out that your fingers are like sticks though so you’ve got an unfair advantage. Just saying.” Kurt snickers as Blaine heads to the bathroom and Mitchell closes the door behind him.  
  
When Blaine comes back Kurt is drifting somewhere close to sleep. He thinks he feels Blaine slip into bed beside him and pull the covers up so that they’re both completely covered. Around the time he thinks he might feel Blaine’s back press against his, just before falling into dreams, he has his last thought. He’s so glad he ditched work tonight and went home.


	5. What's in a name anyway.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurt realizes some secrets are just better left unspoken.

It always amazes Kurt how many of his regular clients want to baby him. Because of what he does some clients assume that he must be lacking in a male role model, which is ridiculous. His dad is a pretty great father. He’s never had a problem with Kurt’s sexuality, and he might have an opinion on his apparent inability to commit to a relationship but Kurt has always known that no matter what, his father has never thought less of him for being sexually adventurous. It would take a lot for Burt Hummel to think less of his son and Kurt knows that it might be slightly unfair to his step-mom who came along later but Kurt can’t think of a better parent for any kid to have than him.  
  
So he doesn’t need to be babied, doesn’t need some hero to come in and manage his life, but he doesn’t mind that Alex tries. Sue was right in predicting that Alex could become a regular. He schedules with Kurt twice a week and Kurt only. The first appointment after was awkward, and Kurt had still been anxious over his decision to share his real name. It had been impossible not to relax however in the face of Alex’s nerves, and that abashed smile he flashed him as he met him at the hotel with flowers, like they were actually going on a date.  
  
It still made Kurt grin (albeit while shaking his head) to think about it.  
  
There are clients, like Alex, that Kurt loves to see pop up on his schedule. Men who aren’t just a job, but people he gets to know and as far as he dares, lets them get to know him. Kurt is with one such client, Victor, a weekly regular and they’ve fucked twice; Victor let Kurt fuck him (which although Kurt knows he enjoys, Victor rarely asks for explicitly). Kurt looks over at Victor’s sleeping form; it’s after midnight and the only light from the room comes from outside and the book light as he tries to read without waking Victor up.  
  
I know it sounds odd, but Kurt very rarely _sleeps_ with his clients. He can’t ever fully let his guard down, not even with Victor who who was very first client and also his longest. But that is rather off the point as Kurt is not there to sleep. If Victor wakes up Kurt needs to be at his beck and call, a cheerio is always ready.  
  
Kurt closes his book. Though it’s his favorite collection of french poems he’s bored of reading and his eyes are getting tired. He leans over and checks that Victor’s sound asleep and after placing a chaste kiss to his temple he carefully crawls out of bed.  
  
He pulls on his robe and heads to the bathroom, closing the door before turning on the light. As he reaches in his pocket he briefly contemplates the wisdom of calling Blaine while he’s at work, but only for a second. Victor is safely sleeping and he just really has the urge to hear Blaine’s voice again. They’ve seen more of each other lately than ever thanks to the whole ordeal with Regina and the baby, and while that night had been pretty horrible for Blaine Kurt has to be thankful for that.  
  
Kurt has always known of course that his friendship with Blaine is important to him but the heady cocktail of rent, jobs and relationships seems to have made him forget just how much. He and Blaine have that special kind of friendship that poets call the flip side of love; same coin, tails end. Or maybe it’s heads side up, because being Blaine’s friend and loving him enough to hop a train at the first sign of distress has always come as natural as breathing. It’s the sex- the reality of falling in love (or not as the case happened to be)- that complicated things and almost twisted them to breaking.  
  
But the wonder of it all is they didn’t and there’s still so much for him to hold onto, to take care of. He hasn’t so far, and that’s pretty stupid actually.  
  
Kurt sits on the edge of the bathtub as he opens his phone and presses number one on his speed dial.  
  
 _“What?”_ Kurt can’t help but smile as he hears Blaine’s wide awake voice on the other end. They’re both still night owls it seems.  
  
“I’m bored,” he tells Blaine petulantly, his voice a dead giveaway.  
  
 _“And you call me at 1:00 in the morning to tell me this?”_ Kurt can hear the muffled sound of the video game Blaine is playing in the background. For some reason this makes him happy.  
  
“You’re just angry I caught you playing that silly game. A little old for such toys aren’t we?” He teases with a brow lifted even though Blaine can’t see it. “Are you winning?”  
  
 _“Uh...not exactly. David challenged me to an old school Madden match this weekend- after we watch the game you know- so I thought I'd brush up, but I forgot how limited the players are in the older versions....No! Are you kidding me?! Just catch the ball. It was right in front of you!”_  
  
“It doesn’t sound like it’s going well.” Kurt says with a smile, he can picture Blaine’s frustrated face and the way he gets intense over something as trivial as a fake football game. “How was the gig?” He asks, referring to some show that Jeremiah had dragged Blaine to that evening with some of his work mates.  
  
 _“It wasn’t a gig. It was more an ‘electric acoustic performance piece’. Whatever that is.”_ Kurt pauses in his examination of his nails and grimaces.  
  
“It sounds...trendy.” He tries, because he knows that it irritates Blaine when he comments on anything Jeremiah related. But the great part of being friends with Blaine, Kurt remembers, is they can be honest with each other about everything. Well, almost everything.  
  
“No I can’t,” he admits with a scoff. “Actually it sounds awful. Just the sound of it makes me think of nails on a chalkboard.”  
  
 _“I know! I’m all for creativity with music but the guy played the same note for two and a half hours. At one point I actually thought he was dead.”_ Blaine readily agrees and as he laughs quietly Kurt knows they’re both grinning and it feels good to share something so silly and simple.  
  
 _"Jeremiah and the guys loved it though so that was nice. I don’t know, maybe it just takes getting used to.”_  
  
“Well if I chopped off your arm you’d get used to that too but no one said it was a good thing.”  
  
 _“Ha ha ha Kurt, I’m laughing because you’re so...Oh my god, I’m pressing A. A! Go left, it’s not that hard!”_  
  
“I assume you’re talking to your imaginary football players?”  
  
 _“They’re not imaginary. I didn’t make them up, they’re right on the screen in front of me. And yes they’re being particularly...”_ Suddenly Blaine goes quiet and Kurt hears the sounds of the phone shifting and a muffled conversation. Ah, he thinks, Jeremiah must have woken up.  
  
And suddenly Kurt is a lot less happy.  
  
 _“Hi. I’m back, sorry about that. Jeremiah says hi,"_ Blaine says, whispering so quietly that Kurt can barely hear him. He rolls his eyes.  
  
“Oh yeah, I’m sure he does.” Blaine is a terrible liar, not that he really needs to lie. Jeremiah can’t stand Kurt, and the feeling is mutual. “Why is his being bent out of shape because I call you so not a shocker for me?”  
  
 _“Don’t be like that, Kurt. It’s late, he’s trying to sleep and I got a little over excited so I apologized.”_  
  
“So just so we’re clear. He’s upset that I excite you?” Kurt can’t help but say it. It’s the truth and all three of them know it. Jeremiah has always been jealous of the closeness that he and Blaine share.  
  
Blaine sighs.  
  
 _“Kurt, can we not?”_  
  
They seem to be saying that to each other a lot lately. Kurt wonders when they _will_.  
  
This time it’s Kurt who sighs as he hears Victor stirring in the other room. “Okay. I’ve got to go anyway.”  
  
 _“Yeah me too. Call me when you get up so we can do breakfast.”_  
  
They say their goodbyes and hang up and Kurt quickly peers around the bedroom door; Victor doesn’t appear to have moved much more and is still sound asleep. Kurt wanders out of the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bed wondering what to do next.

  
******

  
  
Kurt spends a lot of time in hotel bars as you might imagine but this particular morning is pretty special though as this time it’s strictly personal. Blaine’s company has been attending a conference there all day, and Blaine does not have time to leave in order to attend their weekly lunch.  
  
This has happened before in the past of course. Often it’s Kurt who calls to reschedule one of their meet ups so he more than owes Blaine a few rain checks, but as Blaine had explained the situation on the phone the night before and apologized, neither of them had seemed happy about the situation and somehow or another Kurt had ended up agreeing to meet him at the hotel.  
  
It’s strange but Kurt still can’t say he regrets the new closeness between them. They no longer seem to have trouble meeting three times a week. In fact it’s becoming strange not to see Blaine daily and now Kurt is at a high class hotel meeting a man for lunch and it has absolutely nothing to do with going upstairs and having sex afterwards.  
  
Kind of a pity really.  
  
In the circles that Kurt moves in hotels like this one are renowned for the way they turn a blind eye to escorts. From his position at the bar Kurt has spotted three escorts already. At a table in the adjoining restaurant there’s a leggy blond with loose curls right down her back-wearing an obviously expensive red cocktail dress with matching lips and nails- sitting opposite a portly bald man in his mid fifties.  
  
With one hand she idly twiddles a curl around her index finger whilst the other slides up and down the bowl of her glass in a very intentional way. Judging by the way the gentleman’s eyes wander down to her wine glass, it’s having the desired effect.  
  
A few seats along is a young man around Kurt’s age- only darker skinned, Latino. Every now and then he discreetly checks his watch and looks towards the hotel door, and Kurt knows the suit he’s wearing costs a small fortune as he has the same one in navy. The guy even has the telltale briefcase at his side, not dissimilar to the one Kurt usually carries.  
  
Then, over by the fireplace is a redhead in her early thirties chatting to two young business men. She wears a jet black trouser suit with nothing beneath the jacket; a long silver chain draws the eye downwards. Every now and then she’ll throw her head back in laughter to reveal the hint of a peaked nipple, and when that doesn’t work she ‘accidentally’ drops something that she absolutely must bend down and retrieve. All are obviously high class and are using tricks that Kurt himself has used a hundred times.  
  
His eyes turn to the conference rooms as a crowd of men and women in power suits come piling out, all talking animatedly and walking fast. Finally Blaine emerges. His tie is askew and though every other inch of him is immaculate and firmly pressed right up to his hair, he looks about ready to stick his head in a blender, not to mention positively exhausted. As he spots Kurt at the bar his face brightens some and he smiles tiredly.  
  
“Hey. I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he says as he comes to stand next to Kurt and sighs heavily. “It’s not crazy if I quit is it?” Kurt makes some sympathetic noises and reaches up to adjusts his tie for him.  
  
“Not if you don’t mind starting a new career from the bottom again,” Kurt teases as he gets up to follow the hostess and they’re shown to a table in the almost empty restaurant. It feels weird being at this hotel and sitting down to a meal with a man who isn’t a client. He tries to shake the feeling and stop thinking about work. He wants more than anything just to enjoy his time with Blaine.  
  
Blaine is as always, a very pleasing distraction. Kurt raises an eyebrow as Blaine orders a diet coke.  
  
“I thought you’d want a stiff drink after the morning you’ve had,” he comments on it and Blaine shakes his head in annoyance.  
  
“Jeremiah thinks I drink too much so I’ve gotten into the habit of avoiding it.” Catching Kurt’s look of shock he quickly adds, “it’s okay though. Crazy things happen when I drink. I don’t really hold liquor all that well.”  
  
Kurt can’t quite contain a quick burst of laughter at that, because Blaine has never said anything more true. Blaine loses every last barrier he has after practically the first sip of alcohol. It’s sort of adorable- under proper supervision. Still, finding out that Blaine has changed something, or stopped doing something else, seems to be becoming a trend. Now that Blaine is a constant in his life again Kurt is only just realizing that Blaine has changed a lot since they were together. More specifically, he has changed a lot for Jeremiah. Because he loves him.  
  
Kurt doesn’t know what he feels about that but it’s heavy in his gut as he clears his throat.  
  
“He won’t let you enjoy a glass of wine?” He asks in mild censure. “Jesus, Blaine: cookies, late night video games, pop music, booze. Does he not let you do _any_ of the things that you enjoy?”  
  
“Very little,” Blaine admits with a teasing grin. “But, that’s all the silly stuff. You give up some things to blend two lives together. I can live without cookies and late nights.”  
  
“True enough. But electronic acoustic performances are serious things, Blaine. That, I don’t believe, won’t kill you given time.” Kurt says, putting on his best wounded face and Blaine chuckles.  
  
“Can I order us something special?” Blaine asks excitedly, opening the menu. “They have a great special here and I think you’ll love it.”  
  
“This isn’t going to have feet or eyes that look at me like at that Thai place is it?”  
  
“No, even better. It’s the best all American beer battered burger you are ever going to eat,” Blaine says, already looking blissful just thinking about it. “Kurt, it’s got sauteed onions and bacon on it and if you order the sliders they stick in these adorable little toothpicks.”  
  
“To distract me from the sound of my arteries clogging?” Kurt scoffs, but it’s lost on Blaine. He’s suddenly very interested in something going on behind Kurt. “Blaine?”  
  
“Don’t turn round,” Blaine whispers urgently, so obviously the first thing that Kurt does is turn around to where the escort at the bar is now heading towards the elevators with a distinguished looking older gentleman, their arms linked. “I saw that older guy give him money. And they...I think that guy’s a whore.”  
  
Kurt cringes internally at the word as it falls out of Blaine’s mouth. He has always said that he doesn’t care what anybody calls him, but for some reason that rule of thumb isn’t extended to Blaine. Having sex for money makes Kurt feel powerful, attractive and unlike most he gets real job satisfaction, he couldn’t give it up even if he wanted to. But the way Blaine just said the word makes Kurt feel cheap and used for the first time since....  
  
It strikes him then that Blaine has been making him feel this way for a couple of weeks now, that Blaine is the reason his job has lost a lot of its thrill. Blaine and his smiles, and his touches and just...all of it.  
  
“Stop staring,” Kurt hisses seriously, and he realizes that Blaine isn’t the only one staring. A group of women at the table next to them have noticed as well, and Kurt briefly wonders if people stare at him that way while he’s working. He’d always thought he was so inconspicuous. He fleetingly wonders if he’ll ever be able to work again without feeling self conscious.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Blaine says with a hint of surprise, clearly not understanding Kurt’s reaction; they people watch all the time, it’s a hobby of theirs. “It’s just not something you see everyday.”  
  
It strikes home then, how much it hurts him to know that Blaine knows nothing at all about what he does, he doesn’t know that escorts are everywhere and thinks that prostitutes only work on street corners. Part of Kurt wants to put him straight but the other part of him doesn’t want the inevitable questions about how he’s acquired the knowledge.  
  
“He’s not a whore anyway.” Kurt defends the nameless guy like he’s defending himself. “He’s an escort. You don’t even know him, you have no idea why he does what he does and I can’t believe you’re just sitting there judging, thinking you have a right to say something like that.” Blaine stares at him like he has lost his mind. Kurt is aware that his voice is raised and people are staring but he’s never been so furious in his life.  
  
“Excuse me?” Blaine looks angry now.  
  
“I didn’t think you were that cruel Blaine!” He’d hoped, Kurt realizes. He’d hoped somewhere in the back of his mind that if he ever told Blaine that he would understand. He’s terrified he realizes, but anger feels so much safer. Blaine leans forward in his chair, his mouth pressed in that way that Kurt knows means he’s furious and trying to remain composed.  
  
“He has sex for money Kurt. That makes him a whore, it’s what you call someone who has sex for money. I’m sorry if I wasn’t politically correct enough for you, but unless you’re going to tell me what you’re really so upset about you need to stop biting my head off. You do it all the time now and it isn’t fair.”  
  
Blaine is right. Kurt has tried to deny it but things have been unraveling for him lately and it has everything to do with the pressure of living a lie, with being close to someone one day and a stranger to them the next. He doesn’t want to do it anymore, lie that is. He’s sick of them and he’s been taking that anger out on Blaine. Blaine hadn’t said anything about the escort they’d seen that wasn’t true.  
  
And that’s what it comes down to. The word ‘whore’ might just be semantics, but sometimes semantics is everything.  
  
Kurt has always said he’s not ashamed of who he is and that he doesn’t care what people say about him. And that’s maybe true; but you see, Kurt has this friend who means everything to him, who he tells everything...except that he’s a whore.  
  
That time is coming to a close. Kurt knows that now. But he just can’t do it now; not just yet. If Blaine looks at him and says that word Kurt will break, he knows he will, because he’s been lying to himself. He cares. More than he ever thought he could.  
  
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Kurt says as he hastily rises from his seat. He needs to be anywhere but where he is. For both their sakes.  
  
“Kurt, wait don’t-”  
  
“No. I’m so sorry, Blaine. I’ll call you but I have to-” he has to go. He just really has to go.


	6. Too grown for fairytales.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But if you can't keep a secret in... what's a poor escort to do?

The thing Kurt likes most about his sessions with Alex is the opportunity to relax. It’s not something Kurt expects or even encourages, but when Alex insists on treating their appointments like dates, when he insists that talking to Kurt about Kurt makes him happier than solely focusing on his own needs or fulfilling his own fantasies, it’s hard not to grow lazy and let his guard down. He knows he has done it that evening when Alex takes a sip of his wine and remarks that wherever Kurt’s thoughts are lost at, it must be a very sad place.  
  
“Not as sad as you’d think,” Kurt assures him, flushing in embarrassment because he isn’t normally this unprofessional. Alex has spent good money on their time together and is spending even more to take Kurt out to a fine dinner. He owes him his attention. “You’ll have to excuse me I-”  
  
“You’ve got someone on your mind.” Alex waves away his apology, unsettling Kurt once again with how observant he is. Or rather, it might be more accurate to say that it’s the amount of attention he pays that Kurt finds unsettling.  
  
“Yeah I guess I do,” Kurt admits. They grin a little thinly at each other and Kurt takes another bite of his duck with a small sigh.  
  
“I don’t suppose I could tempt you into sharing?” Alex asks, so hopefully Kurt can’t help an amused giggle.  
  
“It’s sort of against my rules, sharing personal details” Kurt informs him for the millionth time but as Alex’s face falls he smiles and adds, “but I’m willing to make a compromise. I’ll share if you will.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Alex flushes and Kurt knows that his own observations are correct. Alex isn’t the only one who has been paying attention.  
  
“I mean that I’m not the only one with someone on their mind.”  
  
Alex doesn’t comment on that, instead he takes another long sip of his wine and gazes off somewhere past Kurt. He’s surprisingly disappointed that Alex has refused the invitation to share. The other man’s eyes are too old, to haunted, not to have a story behind them and he’s one of the most unusual clients Kurt has ever had. He would have liked to know what that story was.  
  
“I had a partner once.” Alex’s voice startles Kurt after such a long silence but he quickly gives the other man his whole attention.  
  
“Before, Ricky?”  
  
“Yeah,” Alex nods. “Ricky came along after and I guess I knew from the start he wasn’t what I needed but by then I guess I was so desperate to be important to someone again that I didn’t care.”  
  
“Did you love this man... your partner?” Kurt asks, already knowing the answer. He doesn’t have to know his name or who he is but this man hovers over Alex like a shadow.  
  
“Very much.” Alex nods slightly and blinks once before looking at Kurt with a searching gaze. “How about you?”  
  
“I’ve only ever had one serious relationship” he admits. “It’s rather complicated but needless to say he’s one of the most important things in my life.”  
  
“Ah. And you still love him?”  
  
“Of course, just not like he needs.” Kurt shrugs. “We want different things. That has always been the problem.”  
  
“I understand.” Alex has this look on his face that makes Kurt feel that it’s not just tripe. He hasn’t a doubt that Alex knows exactly how he feels and he wonders about this man he still loves who he is obviously separated from. He wonders idly if it will always be this way for them. Will they always feel this ache for someone out of their reach? It’s so damn frustrating and not for the first time Kurt finds himself wondering what would have happened if he could be different; the sort of man Blaine wanted.  
  
“He wasn’t the settle down type?” He inquires because without a doubt Alex is the sort of person who would want the house and the dog and the white picket fences.  
  
“No, not at all.” Alex laughs a little sadly. “He did try for me but... it’s complicated.”  
  
“Isn’t it always?” Kurt smiles tenderly at him and places a hand over his, wanting to draw Alex back from the dark place they’d strayed into. “No use wallowing over things we can’t change is there? We’re young, I’m beautiful,” Alex laughs at Kurt’s cheeky wink and Kurt dances his fingers playfully up his arm. “We’ve a night ahead of us just waiting to be filled, and here I could make some horrible joke about it not being the only thing, but...”  
  
Alex laughs and Kurt thinks it’s a really beautiful sound and that a man would have to be crazy not to want to spend as much time as he could invested in bringing that sound around. He wonders about the man Alex loves. He probably regrets not being the one sitting where Kurt is, he’s sure he does infact; it’s just one of those things Kurt knows.  
  
********  
  
It’s early evening, several days later and Kurt is just finishing with a client. Nice guy, mid thirties, the kind that he can have a laugh with, very down to earth. He paid $200 for an hour of regular sex in the missionary position, which was honestly a relief for Kurt since over the past week the last thing he has felt like doing is work and he can barely bring himself up to scratch anymore. He hasn’t spoken to Blaine since he ran out on him at lunch the other day.  
  
Blaine has left a few messages on his phone but Kurt has not answered them. Not because he isn’t sorry, because he is. He honestly believes Blaine was only trying to make a simple observation and that he is the one to blame for the fight, for blowing up about something Blaine has no hope of understanding. Not unless Kurt tells him the truth. That’s what has kept Kurt away. The truth is heavy on his tongue and he’s afraid of what he’ll say if he sees Blaine.  
  
Now he doesn’t see him at all and Kurt would be lying if he said that the week and some days hadn’t felt like the most empty of his life. He honestly just wants to get away. He suddenly has a strong urge to drive home to Lima to bake with Carol, to see Finn and hear all about Quinn, to sit with his dad as he watches whatever game is on TV. He needs a vacation, but Sue doesn’t exactly encourage them to take holidays.  
  
Kurt has had nightmares about coming back after a vacation only to have lost all his clients to Jake, and Sue does nothing to dispel his probably irrational fears. As much as Kurt loves the job it’s draining him. He’s not feeling it any more. He wants home. _His_ home. He misses driving five miles and encountering nothing but a gas station and a wal-mart, he misses seeing girls out in winter wearing parkas and snow boots instead of prancing around in nothing but a bra and a belt, he misses his father. He misses Blaine teasing him about his tiny town, tucking a long stem of grass behind his ear, enjoying the summer sun and refusing to think about term starting up again in the fall. He misses the closeness they once shared, long before sex complicated things.  
  
The truth is burning in Kurt’s mouth but he isn’t ready yet to unleash it. He isn’t ever going to be ready to lose Blaine. What does that say?  
  
He now has two hours to get washed, changed and have something to eat before heading back out to meet his next client. It’s a two hour appointment, that means that the fellow either wants conversation or to do something…unusual. Hopefully it’s the former; otherwise Kurt might snap before the two hours are up. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s on the verge of a breakdown.  
  
He’s just in the process of drying his hair when his phone rings and Blaine’s name flashes on the screen. Everything inside Kurt freezes.  
  
 _“I need to come over”_ Blaine says before Kurt even says hello. Not that Kurt was planning on it. He is still shocked that the phone is in his trembling hand to begin with.  
  
“No. No you can’t, I’m working tonight. Sorry” Kurt apologizes quickly, feeling an immense wave of relief st the ready excuse. It doesn’t have to be today. Today won’t be the last day Blaine is with him.  
  
 _“Call in sick,”_ Blaine almost demands, and that’s when Kurt notices his voice is odd. _“Since when do you work Saturday nights anyway?”_  
  
“Overtime.” Kurt winces at the lie, which is pointless as he has to do it again to cover the first. “I need the money.” He is not going to cry. He has to hang up because this is getting ridiculous and painful and crying is just so stupid.  
  
 _“Kurt! Please can you call in sick!”_ Kurt realizes something is really not right, but he can’t just go cancelling appointments on Blaine’s say so. He’s done that one too many times lately and for all that he’s Sue’s golden boy there’s only so much crap he can pull before she starts cutting him. For all Kurt knows this is the only time the client is free for months. Canceling makes him look bad, it makes Sue look bad and the last thing you want to do is make Sue look bad.  
  
“Blaine I can’t,” he answers quietly.  
  
Kurt hears him curse and he winces, this time because Blaine doesn’t throw curses around like most people. He’s too polite for that.  
  
 _“Damn it Kurt! I didn’t think it was too much to ask if just once you could put me before your god damn job, but I guess it is. I’d quit bothering you but I have nowhere else to go. Can you just work with me here, please?”_  
  
Kurt can’t stop shaking. Jesus, what is wrong with him? Something is obviously really wrong, he can tell by Blaine’s voice, and as usual all Kurt can think of is work. Since when did this job take over his life? He thinks that maybe it happened a long time ago and Blaine has held off from saying anything until now.  
  
“Alright. Just please, give me half an hour,” Kurt tells him, hanging up before Blaine can answer. He needs to tidy up; it’s been so long since Kurt let him come over that he has become sloppy. He needs to get everything that will give away his real occupation and lock it away in his work bedroom; because, yes, he wants to tell Blaine the truth but is he ready? No he is not and it will only be ten times worse if Blaine figures it out for himself before Kurt can tell him.  
  
Getting everything put away is no easy feat. His bathroom alone is filled with cupboards full of deodorants, toothbrushes and soap for when he takes in calls, and there are toys, packets of condoms, and lube _everywhere_. Blaine might be well aware of Kurt’s promiscuity but the sheer amount of them piled up in trash cans and in his drawers is a bit much, and if that doesn’t give it away the business cards and the new photos he just had taken certainly will. But before he does all that he needs to make a phone call, which needless to say he’s not exactly thrilled about.  
  
 _“Hey Porcelain”_ Sue says as she answers his call. _“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the hotel name or the room number, that’s not like you.”_  
  
“I need you to cancel my evening out call,” Kurt doesn’t bother hegding, waiting for the inevitable onslaught.  
  
 _“What?!”_ Kurt flinches at the quiet bark. He knows just by her voice that this is going to mean a lot of trouble for him.  
  
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. But something’s come up and I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate, you know that Sue.”  
  
 _“Porcelain, listen to me carefully. I gave you that client as a favor! I don’t grant favors often. He didn’t have any preference or ask for someone in particular but you know that when I can I’ll send them you. Why? Because you’re my star. Stars do not cancel appointments!”_  
  
“Sue I honestly can’t do it right now. Can’t you give him to someone else?”  
  
 _“This is an escort agency not a hospital! I don’t have people on call for when you can’t be bothered.”_  
  
“It’s not that I can’t be bothered, I need to deal with this. I have a friend in a crisis and I’m worried.I can’t work in this state anyway.” He explains tiredly.  
  
There is a long pause on the other end.  
  
 _“Kurt.”_ Kurt’s eyes widen at Sue’s use of his name. _“I’m going to give you this one. And while you’re dealing with your crisis I want you to think long and hard about crossing me. I don’t care if god himself calls you asking for a favor, if you pull this with me again Sue Sylvester is going to wait until Christmas and send all those lovely new photos I have of you on personal greeting cards signed ‘with a happy ho ho ho to you’, to every single person you love. Then I will fire you. Do I make myself clear?”_  
  
“It won’t happen again,” Kurt promises and Sue promptly hangs up. He stands for a moment staring glumly at his phone. It’s not that he actually believes Sue would come through on the first part of her threat, she doesn’t know any of his friends and family for one thing, it’s that he knows she isn’t bluffing about firing him. Yes he’s tired of the lies, no he doesn’t want Blaine to hate him, but what will he do without the job? It has been his whole life for years now and he really enjoys it...at least he used to. He can again. He will again. Maybe.  
  
By the time Blaine rings the buzzer Kurt has got the place organized and it doesn’t scream of Porcelain’s Boudoir of lust and decadence as soon as you enter. Everything that indicates his profession is safely stored in his work bedroom with the door locked. He hasn’t come up with some excuse for why Blaine can’t sleep there but he’ll think of something.  
  
“Kurt?” Kurt hears Blaine call as he walks in and he grabs two cans of sprite from the fridge, which he almost drops when he sees Blaine’s face for the first time.  
  
“Jesus _Christ_!” Kurt shouts as he takes in Blaine’s swollen eye, the dried blood on one side of his face and the ugly bruise already starting to form there. “What the hell happened? Were you mugged? Do I need to call the police? You look like you need to go to the hospital!” Kurt is on him in seconds, fluttering hands stroking hair and skin as he examines Blaine’s injuries and fights panic.  
  
“I’m fine,” Blaine lies, considering he’s clearly anything but fine. “I just had a run in with Jeremiah” Kurt freezes momentarily, something dark and cold unfurling inside him.  
  
“Jeremiah hit you?” He asks quietly as if the words themselves might be dangerous. “Has he completely lost his mind?!”  
  
Blaine goes to answer, however before the words can leave his mouth he sways on his feet; unsurprising considering he’s obviously taken quite a blow to the head. Kurt quickly steadies him. Taking hold of him by the upper arms he guides Blaine to the settee, onto which Blaine slumps as soon as they reach it. Blaine leans back and closes his eyes, which Kurt knows if he has a concussion is the last thing he wants to be doing.  
  
“Okay honey I know you don’t want to, but hold your head up for me.” Kurt gently pulls Blaine’s head towards him and his eyes blink open. “There you go. Just look at me for awhile. It’s going to be okay.” Kurt props Blaine’s head up with one hand and strokes his scalp gently with the other, trying to keep the fear and fury out of his voice. He makes soothing sounds and wrestles himself under control.  
  
“Blaine,” he says softly to focus Blaine’s attention. “Tell me what happened.”  
  
Blaine opens his eyes again and sighs heavily. Kurt can’t imagine how much of a headache he must have right now.  
  
“We started arguing about stuff…. stupid little things at first, you know? I haven’t been very good to him, Kurt. I was really messed up about our fight and I just...I hate that I feel like I’m losing you.”  
  
“Shhh,” Kurt sooths him, feeling the bitter taste of guilt. He shouldn’t have avoided him after their fight. Is he ever going to get anything right with Blaine? “You’re not. We’re best friends, we fight. That doesn’t change anything.”  
  
“I know, I just... I felt like shit and he was at the stage where he was just looking for things to fight over and he found an empty wine bottle in the trash. You know he can’t stand alcohol. I sort of had a couple drinks. You weren’t answering me and I just wanted to forget everything for awhile. He wanted to know why I hid it from him, why I felt the need to get drunk in the first place, and then we were fighting about you and he said....” Blaine tappers off, an ashamed look on his face like he’s afraid that he’s said too much or of saying something that might hurt Kurt.  
  
“It’s okay. I know what he thinks of me, and he can think what he wants.” Kurt doesn’t bother keeping the anger out of his voice. He and Jeremiah can’t stand each other but they had come to an unspoken truce for Blaine’s sake. Kurt refrains from voicing his real feelings on the ass (well, most of the time) because he knows Blaine really cares about him and how Kurt feels shouldn’t have any bearing on that. Now he’s thinking it had been a mistake. He’s thinking that no matter what he’s never letting Blaine get within ten feet of Jeremiah ever again.  
  
“Yeah. He didn’t exactly hold back,” Blaine continues, sounding a little more coherent now. Kurt notices his eyes look more focused too. “Maybe it was wrong considering I’ve basically been ignoring him and moping around for days but he had no right to say the things he said. They made me so... just...I was angry! At everything. I started to defend you, and the fight just escalated from there, and we were screaming at each other and I just couldn’t stand being like that, so I turned my back on him for a split second and he just lost it I guess. He smashed the wine bottle over the side of my head like something out of the three stooges. Only it hurt like hell. They never look like they get hurt. I stormed out...he’s probably really worried right now”  
  
“You’re worried about _him_?”Kurt shouts in a mixture of anger and shock. He sees Blaine wince slightly, but he goes on, unable to believe that even now Blaine won’t think of himself. “That asshole could have killed you Blaine!”  
  
Blaine rolls his eyes as if Kurt’s just being melodramatic.  
  
“The bottle didn’t even break.” Kurt wants to shake him.  
  
“He could have killed you!” Kurt persists, enunciating each word, his heart pounding against his rib cage. “One of my clients….I mean...a guy I’ve sealed a contract with,” Kurt can’t even feel too alarmed at the near slip he’s so shaken by Blaine’s condition and the fear that comes with knowing something could have happened to him. “His partner’s in jail for manslaughter! He caught a guy on the wrong place and killed him on the spot! Do not pretend like this is normal couple behavior because it damn well isn’t.”  
  
“Alright alright, maybe he could have killed me, but he didn’t. It’s okay Kurt. Everything is okay.” Kurt can’t believe that Blaine’s actually reassuring _him_. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Blaine looks away, refusing to meet Kurt’s eye. There’s something else there now, another emotion. Kurt knows it a little too well. It’s shame  
  
“I hit him back.”  
  
Now Kurt understands that broken look, and everything in his heart just aches. He knows Blaine, who he is and the way he thinks. This is not something he will forgive of himself easily but Kurt is honestly thankful, because Blaine likes to please too much. Blaine will give everything he’s got, and even things he doesn’t have, to make things okay for everyone else; he could have stayed. He could have let Jeremiah beat on him but he hadn’t. He’s not trapped and for that Kurt couldn't be more thankful. Kurt also knows that Blaine won’t see it this way.  
  
“He hit me with that bottle and there was blood in my eyes and I didn’t think, I just did it. I hit him and he staggered back and we both just stood there... he started crying, Kurt. God I’ve never hated myself so much. I couldn’t...I cant believe I hit my boyfriend. I hit my boyfriend Kurt and I ran away.”  
  
“It’s called self defense Blaine!” It really irritates Kurt sometimes how much of a gentleman Blaine can be, in many ways he’s very old fashioned. “He’s not some hysterical chick throwing dishes at you in a movie. This is real life. Your life! He could have knocked you out cold! Or even blinded you if he’d got glass in your eyes! You should have kicked his ass.”  
  
“I’m not like that Kurt, and I know you’re not either! You don’t go around hitting your boyfriends, I’m not going to be _that_ man!”  
  
“For god’s sake I’m not trying to goad you into being an abusive boyfriend! All I’m saying is that you can’t beat yourself up over defending yourself. What if he had come at you with a knife, or whatever other dangerous object he just felt like hitting you with? Defending yourself when someone attacks you is a natural instinct, a reflex that you have no control over, even frightened animals do it.”  
  
“I’m not a frightened animal! I’m a human being and I just punched my boyfriend.” Blaine retorts hotly. “Excuse me if I don’t want those kinds of instincts.”  
  
“Clearly he hit you a little too hard,” Kurt responds dubiously as he fetches his first aid kit and a bowl of warm water from the kitchen. “I think I should take you to a doctor.”  
  
“No. Please... too many questions. I know it sounds nuts but I think he scared himself more than he scared me. The way that he was crying, Kurt.... I can’t explain it. We’re all allowed one mistake right? You got plenty of second chances when we were together.”  
  
“Yeah well, I don’t recall ever physically assaulting you, though I’m seriously tempted to now.” Kurt snorts indignantly as he mixes Dettol with the warm water. He doesn’t brother protesting that Blaine hasn't said anything about leaving Jeremiah, because Blaine’s not like that. He doesn’t quit _anything_ lightly. While there’s nothing Kurt would like more than to keep Jeremiah far away from Blaine, Blaine’s commitment is one of the things he loves about him.  
  
He can’t demand him to go against what he believes in, what Kurt so admires about him. But god, how everything inside him aches right now, it’s so sharp edged it rumbles like hunger pains in his gut. He wants so much better for him, for them both.  
  
“Chin up,” Kurt instructs, his voice gentle despite the storm inside. He tentatively touches the side of Blaine’s face with the damp cotton wool, muttering words of apology as Blaine inhales sharply. “I’m sorry. That burns I know. _Shhhhhhh_. It’s okay. It will be fine in a minute.” Kurt speaks low and soft, dabbing with one hand and rubbing comforting circles on Blaine’s chest with the other. Blaine watches him in silence, bracing against the pain and leaning into Kurt’s touch.  
  
“I’m sorry for yelling at you before on the phone. I didn’t mean what I said,” Blaine whispers so softly that Kurt almost doesn’t hear him. Kurt pulls away from his face for a few seconds.  
  
“Yes you did. You were hurt and in shock and I should have just forgotten about work. I’m sorry that I pushed you to it. And not just for this time Blaine. I’m sorry for every time.” Kurt can hear a crack in his voice and he thinks his hands may have started to shake but when Blaine takes the hand Kurt has on Blaine’s chest in his, everything inside Kurt seems to calm.  
  
He manages to clean away the dried blood, and is thankful to see that there doesn’t appear to be any shards of glass embedded in Blaine’s skin. The swelling has started to go down but the massive bruise is all the more evident. Kurt passes him a cloth soaked in witch hazel which will hopefully prevent the bruise from getting out of hand.  
  
“So what’s the verdict doc, am I fixed?” Blaine asks softly, relaxing into the couch.  
  
“You’ll do,” Kurt whispers, a lump unexpectedly forming in his throat as he looks upon the battered face of his rock, the person who has always looked out for him, always seemed so certain even when neither of them know what the hell they are doing. What happens next happens in slow motion and yet Kurt can do nothing to stop it; his bottom lip starts to tremble, his eyes start to burn and before he can stop it he’s bursting into tears.  
  
Blaine’s eyes widen at this outburst, clearly perplexed by the sudden show of raw emotion and not knowing quite what to say. In all honesty neither does Kurt, nor can he quite put his finger on just why he’s breaking now when he’s been so strong for so long and Blaine has done nothing to push him away.  
  
“Kurt?!” Blaine asks in alarm as Kurt sobs uncontrollably; god only knows what he looks like. He used to cry all the time when he was growing up, he’d felt things so strongly back then. He doesn’t quite know when that had stopped, when the tears had dried up, but they’re pouring now, like Blaine has never seen them do before.  
  
“Kurt.” All Blaine says is his name over and over again as he holds Kurt to him as if the circle of his arms can hold Kurt together, as if he can speak him into happiness just by invoking his name. It’s reminiscent of when they were dating and they used to curl up on their ratty old couch with a giant blanket for the closeness, just to keep warm when they couldn’t afford central heating. Blaine holds him and slowly Kurt’s sobs subside.  
  
“What’s wrong?’ Blaine asks gently as Kurt rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder, inhaling the scent that is quintessentially _him_. Kurt can’t help but feel this is incredibly messed up, that he should be the one comforting Blaine and not the other way round. “My face is _that_ bad is it?”  
  
Kurt manages to laugh, shaking his head and inadvertently wiping his nose on Blaine’s shirt. Blaine doesn’t seem to mind.  
  
“Don’t ever leave me!” It comes out without thought.  
  
There it is; the source of the tears. Although Blaine seems fine, Jeremiah could just as easily have killed him, albeit accidentally, and Kurt realizes that if he lost Blaine, who would he have? His family lives in Lima, their friends from college are scattered all across the US and the only other people with whom he has any sort of regular contact with are those with Cheerios and his clients.  
  
He realizes now with some fear that Blaine’s the only one he’s ever _Kurt_ around anymore. Blaine knows him. Blaine has always known him. That is until he started hiding himself, keeping away, pushing away. Kurt has to tell him the truth. He _has_ to, but if he loses him….will Kurt fade away? Will he just be Porcelain?  
  
He’s shaking like a leaf.  
  
See nervous break down. He’d predicted it.  
  
Blaine’s hands have stilled their calming strokes. Kurt listens to the sound of him breathing until  
the silence is too much. He peeks up at Blaine to find him looking down at him with an intense look that Kurt doesn’t have a name for.  
  
“I’m not leaving you Kurt. I thought about it when we broke up. I thought about it again after we had that stupid fight, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it either of those times. You’re my friend and friends don’t abandon each other for being human.” He says and relief washes over Kurt. “But you need to stop pushing me away. I know you have Kurt. We broke up and it was like you didn’t believe I meant it when I said I still cared about you. And now…you work all hours of the day and night, you take yourself off randomly all the time and I’ve got _no idea_ where you are. You’re in a different bed every week, you don’t sleep and you eat too little… and there’s something else.”  
  
Blaine has Kurt’s full attention, Kurt sits up between his open legs and stares intently at him.  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
Blaine sighs tiredly, rubbing his eyes before looking back at Kurt. “I don’t know Kurt, but I know you and something isn’t right with you; you’re keeping secrets.”  
  
‘I’m a whore!’  
  
His mind screams it. If there was ever a golden opportunity for Kurt to tell him about his real job then it’s right now.  
  
“You’re right,” Kurt admits quietly. “But I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Not right now when they’re closer than they’ve been in years. Kurt can’t bear to lose him right now.  
  
“You can trust me Kurt,” Blaine entreats softly, brushing an errant strand of hair away from Kurt’s eyes.  
  
Kurt smiles tenderly at him, his insides warming. He doesn’t mind when Blaine touches his hair.  
  
“I do.”  
  
Blaine looks as if he’s going to continue pressing the matter, so Kurt playfully puts his finger on his lips to stop him, and he sucks in a breath as Blaine kisses the tip. For a moment neither of them move, then Blaine kisses his wrist. Their eyes lock,and they hold each others gaze for several heart pounding seconds until the tension becomes too much and Blaine draws Kurt in by the wrist he still holds.  
  
Kurt’s eyes close as their lips meet, instantly remembering what Blaine’s lips feel like, he even remembers his taste like it was only yesterday. _This kiss_ though, this kiss is different from all the others that they’ve shared, from any kiss Kurt has ever had. It’s soft and tender, and even as his body quakes beneath its onslaught he knows that it won’t lead to anything else. It’s a kiss for the sake of kissing, for the sake of loving, and it’s becoming wet as Kurt starts crying again.  
  
Gone are the sloppy, bruising, kisses from their past. No banging noses and teeth, no leaving scratch marks as they desperately try and rip each other’s clothes off.  
  
Of all the hot and heady kisses they have strewn in their past it’s this kiss Kurt knows he’ll be searching for in his memory for all of the days to come. It makes him wish that more of their kisses could have been like this, that he had thousands and thousands of kisses like it stored up from happy years together.  
  
Blaine rests his forehead against Kurt as they finally part, breathing heavily.  
  
“Kurt?” Blaine whispers almost non audibly. It sounds like a question and it could be one of many. What have they done? Where do they go from here? What about Jeremiah?  
  
Maybe it’s because of Jeremiah that Kurt doesn’t consider that ‘do you love me’ is also a question, but more likely he’s too shaken to even consider it as a possibility. Breaking apart isn’t an easy thing. He just wants to put himself back together again.  
  
“Stay,” Kurt whispers in response before laying down on the couch and pulling Blaine down on top of him so that they settle tucked against each other. “I won’t tell Jeremiah.”  
  
They aren’t going to have sex but Kurt has just discovered something earth shaking. Some things are more intimate than sex. Maybe in the morning there will be some regret. Maybe he’ll regret that they didn’t take things further, that despite all that’s happened Blaine will still go back to his boyfriend come morning. Perhaps Kurt will regret letting him go and subjecting himself to the feeling of longing increasing ever more and ever more inside. Right now though, he’s just happy to be held.  
  


******

  
  
“Penny for your thoughts?” Alex asks as he re-enters the bedroom carrying two mugs of tea. Unlike his other clients Kurt knows without a doubt that Alex will never touch him unless Kurt specifically asks for it, even though they have fucked before and Kurt would not necessarily consider it a trial to do so again.  
  
Kurt knows what Alex is doing. The conversations, the walks, the dinners out; all of it is some misguided attempt to woo him. It’s all so Pretty Woman, and while it will never go anywhere Kurt is more and more thankful for it. His appointments with Alex are enjoyable at least, and he doesn’t have to fight to pretend like he wants to be there. And besides, Kurt is astute enough to know that Alex needs this more than he does.  
  
He and Alex have so much in common, most notably their tragic luck with romance. While Kurt can accept that his is largely self inflicted, poor Alex just seems to have some sort of curse on his head. There is Ricky, the booty call of nearly a year who’d ended things when his oblivious girlfriend got pregnant, and before that was the guy that Kurt has coined in his head as ‘the great and one true love’.  
  
It sounds to Kurt like something out of a movie but he can’t help but get lost in the story when Alex finally tells it. He’d been 27, just a year older than Kurt is now, visiting the place where he’d grown up after years away. Late one night he’d happened upon a group of teenage punks roughing another kid up. After calling the police he’d gone himself to try and scare them off (and lucky for him these particular kind of punks weren’t so hard they didn’t care who they hurt or whether or not they got caught doing it).  
  
The teenager he’d helped that night had lingered in his mind. There was only one hospital nearby, so Alex had gone there to see what kind of condition the boy was in. Kurt really likes Alex but he thinks someone needs to protect him from himself because he’s like Blaine, he can’t say no to someone hurting, and he’d been unable to say no to a seventeen year-old street kid no matter how ill advised it might have been.  
  
There had been nothing sexual about it at first. Alex was wealthy, his family was important in the town (they owned half of it) so he had the resources to help the boy get a job, and he’d encouraged him to finish high school and consider college. They communicated through phone and email mostly, as Alex had still primarily lived and worked out of London.  
  
The boy hadn’t gone to college immediately after highschool. He’d said he wanted time to work and figure out what he wanted to do with his life, but Alex had known it was more about pride. He didn’t want to be a charity case, and that Alex could respect. He’d invited him to come and work in London as a part time clerk for his company and the boy had come and they had begun to know each other beyond what short emails and phone calls on birthdays could produce.  
  
The rest I’m sure you can guess. They fell in love and after some brief resistance on Alex’s part they’d moved in together. They’d been together romantically for four short years when Alex had come home one day and found a suicide note explaining that the man he loved had been living a double life, that he’d struggled with multiple addictions since he was a teenager and he’d been too ashamed to admit it.  
  
He’d tried to quit, and when he couldn’t he’d tried to keep it from effecting Alex and their relationship. That of course failed, and when he’d seen how all of the secrecy and the drugs were effecting Alex, he’d decided Alex would be a lot better off never having stumbled upon him, and would be happier altogether if he was gone.  
  
Kurt is not such a cynic that he doesn’t believe in love as a whole, he’d have to be pretty blind not to see it all around him. His father had loved his mother, and now he loves Carol. Regina loves Tyler, Elaine and Mitchell love each other; Kurt has plenty of healthy examples of love. It just seems to him that for every example of love that works there are seven more of love that doesn’t. He just wishes everyone would stop going on about it like it has any surety to it, because from what he can see it just doesn’t. Love breaks, love fades, and love dies. Just like people.  
  
Kurt has lost someone to death before, he understands the crippling power of it, the loss, and the fact that no matter how much you love someone there’s no changing it. He can’t imagine not knowing where or how someone you loved had taken their own life, having to accept such a loss with no body to mourn over, no body to plead with. No time to come to terms with it, or say goodbye. Of course Alex had waited, even though police found nothing, he’d waited hoping that Aaron had been unable to go through with it and that someday he’d find his way home again but after years, four of them to be exact, even that hope had died.  
  
Kurt knows exactly what Alex sees when he looks at him, why Alex feels the need to try and save him. Kurt doesn’t need saving but Alex needs the chance to do what he couldn’t do for his Aaron.  
  
“Kurt?” Alex holds the tea out to him.  
  
Kurt takes the brew and shifts over on the bed. “My thoughts? Well they’re kind of everywhere right now... just thinking about Ben,” Kurt answers him. As open as he is with Alex they both understand that Kurt needs to protect the people he loves. His refusal to involve Blaine in his work has taken whole new levels now that he and Alex are sharing their personal lives; for some reason the name Ben came to mind, and now Kurt always calls him that. Alex understands the need for codes. “We kissed last night.”  
  
Alex’s eyes widen in surprise; he knows all about Blaine, including his relationship with Jeremiah. “Do you want to talk about it?” Kurt shrugs.  
  
“I don’t know if there’s anything to talk about. Although sometimes… sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we got back together, which is ridiculous considering he doesn’t know what I do for a living and if we _were_ together I still don’t think I could stop. He’d hate that. I remember all the good times, and how it felt and last night... I’d be lying if I said it didn’t mean anything to me or that I didn’t want things...” Kurt sighs, he doesn’t mind talking about his feelings. He just wishes they weren’t reducing him to tears all the time lately.  
  
When he has collected himself he goes on, “but then I remember all the bad times too, and there were a lot. I was a terrible boyfriend, there’s no other way to put it, and I don’t think I’d be any better now. Don’t get me wrong, I think I’ve grown up since then, but I can’t exactly say I wouldn’t cheat again because my job would quickly make a liar out of me, wouldn’t it?”  
  
“I find it difficult to believe that you could be anything other than the ideal boyfriend.” Alex reassures, patting Kurt’s arm.  
  
“We only lasted six months, and I’m surprised he didn’t break up with me after two,” Kurt admits, returning to the subject of Blaine. He looks away, not wanting to look into Alex’s kind green eyes as he inevitably shatters whatever illusions Alex has about him being some innocent victim. “He scared me. I realize that now, but back then... I don’t know. I just liked to push him. I used to pressure him to experiment sexually. I never forced him into anything but I wasn’t always kind or subtle about the fact that I thought he was ridiculously prudish, that he was silly and vanilla. I used to tease him about it and I wasn’t being playful. I was pushing him and if he ever called me on it I’d tell him to stop being so oversensitive, that I wanted a boyfriend and not a girlfriend. I kept expecting him to get fed up. We fought, but he would always man up at the end. He’d always be right there willing to forget and move forward and I needed him too much.”  
  
Yes. Too, too much.  
  
“I started to drink and to turn up back at our place at all hours wanting sex, then when he’d tell me he wouldn’t while I was drunk I’d start in again on how he was such a girl about things, how it was unfair of him to ask me not to screw anyone else when he clearly wasn’t interested in doing it himself. I was demanding and selfish and nasty and scared... just so god damn scared.” Kurt remembered. He marveled. “And despite all of those things, we could be so good to each other. So good for each other. We had a big fight just after Christmas. We’d spent time with both our families and the whole holiday we hadn’t fought once. It was wonderful. Like something out of a Hallmark card, snow and silver bells and cuddling by the fire. My stepbrother said we looked married. I couldn’t believe it. Me married to vanilla Ben who still blushed when someone even mentioned sex.”  
  
“And that’s when you ran I take it.” Alex presses gently. “Did you love him?”  
  
Kurt unconsciously moves closer to Alex, trusting Alex not to judge him.  
  
“Yes.” He admits the truth this time, simply and honestly. “Though I couldn’t admit it to myself until spring. He was trying to get me to do community theater. I wanted to do it but I was afraid of liking it to much, of getting my hopes up for things that were out of my reach. Do you know what that’s like? I’ve been doing it my whole life, ever since I was kid, wanting things.” Kurt wipes his cheeks and tries to stop crying; he’s so sick of crying.  
  
“People don’t understand how much it hurts to be continually crushed, to be the one who doesn’t get, just because you’re different. Well I grew up, and I stopped believing in fairy tales and that stupid _stupid_ lie that love just comes if you wait and that it will fix everything. So yeah... he loved me and I loved him but the reality was we were two different people, and we were young and it was stupid to think that just because we loved each other that things were going to be okay. We were going to hurt each other sooner or later. So, I thought why drag it out? What’s the god damn point? I slept with someone else, and you know what? I was right. He left me. It was quick and it was clean and it only would have been worse if we’d gone on longer. Acting like we were married.” Kurt scoffs. “We were kids. As if we’d even have a clue how to manage spending a lifetime together when we couldn’t manage more than six months. It...it was just so stupid.”  
  
Alex doesn’t say anything, and from the reflection in the mirror Kurt can see that he’s in deep thought.  
  
“You need to talk to him,” Alex tells Kurt finally. It has taken a lot for him to say that. Kurt knows that Alex is bent in ways that no one can fix and that Kurt’s struggle is something he needs to focus on to forget his own pain. If Kurt quits he has no doubt that Alex will be happy for him, mission accomplished, damsel in distress saved; but that Alex himself will once again be alone. Alex holds out hope that one day Kurt might love him, but Kurt knows he won’t and not just because of Blaine. Alex loves Aaron, and Alex saving Kurt will not change the fact that Alex loves Aaron and couldn’t save him.  
  
It’s inevitable though that one day Kurt will stop escorting; either because he gets too old or he wants to settle down and retire, or he might even just wake up one morning and decide that he’s had enough. He used to think that was unlikely but now. Now he’s not so sure.  
  
“Do I have to?” he moans, covering his face with a plush pillow. “Can’t I just continue pretending that everything’s hunky dory?”  
  
“That’s cute.” Alex laughs as Kurt throws the pillow at him. “But everything isn’t hunky dory, is it? I’m not telling the pair of you to get back together, but you always said that the one and only thing you hate about escorting is the secrecy.”  
  
“He’d hate me,” Kurt tells him vehemently, shaking his head. He couldn’t bear Blaine hating him; he can’t bear it when he’s mildly pissed at him because he calls him in the middle of The Apprentice`. “He’s so….moral. I’m telling you he’d look at me with those sad eyes and ask me why and just hate the fact that I don’t mind using my body this way. It’s really annoying.”  
  
“Yeah those people with principles are the worst, aren’t they?” Alex chuckles sarcastically. “Even so, doesn’t he deserve to know what’s going on in his best friend’s life? And if he does end up hating you, which I can’t personally believe, then maybe he isn’t your best friend after all.”  
  
Kurt glares but Alex continues regardless. “If he cares about you as much as you care about him then he’ll accept it. It might be hard for him to come to terms with, and he’ll probably never truly understand, but the people who love you accept who you are even when they don’t understand it. If you truly believe he loves you then you have to trust that, you owe him that. Aaron...Aaron didn’t trust me to accept who he really was, and we both lost.”  
  
On some occasions Kurt feels like he should be paying _Alex_ , because he’s the perfect listener and at times like this he offers Kurt as much comfort as Kurt does him.  
  
“I’ll talk to him” Kurt promises. “Not right away, but soon. He’s having boyfriend issues and I don’t want to add to his problems. Plus it might actually be good to decide what it is that I actually want.”  
  
“There you go.” Alex smiles, and Kurt leans forward and captures his lips in a sweet kiss. Not because he feels like Alex is expecting it and not only because he’s absolutely gorgeous, but because Alex deserves it. He wishes he could be what Alex truly needs but life and love are not fair minded task masters.  
  
As Alex sleeps peacefully Kurt thinks about what he knows is coming all to soon. The moment he reveals the truth of who he is to one of the most important people in his life. His mind wanders somewhat irrationally to all the possible outcomes of his telling his best friend that he’s not an purchasing agent, but a hooker.  
  
Blaine is disgusted, vows never to speak to him again and tells all their friends and family out of spite.  
  
Blaine is disgusted, he grants Kurt a small mercy and doesn’t tell a soul but still never speaks to him again.  
  
Blaine is disgusted, they stay in touch but their friendship never recovers and they drift apart.  
  
Blaine is disgusted, they remain best friends but he becomes scary and unbalanced as a result of being the best friend of a whore.  
  
Blaine is anything but disgusted, but becomes scary as he actually likes the idea of being best friends with a whore.  
  
Blaine is anything but disgusted and offers to join in, pro bono. Kurt chuckles into his pillow at the ridiculous idea.  
  
Blaine is anything but disgusted and offers to join in, making more money than Kurt. Not as crazy as it sounds. Blaine is gorgeous, he could totally make a killing in this business.  
  
Blaine is anything but disgusted and they carry on as normal. Only no more secrets, no more lies.  
  
Kurt can admit the first one is unlikely, Blaine may be a lot of things but cruel and spiteful he is not. The next three seem equally possible where as possibilities 5-8 vary in credibility from ‘no way’ to ‘seriously no fucking way.’ Obviously the last option is what he’s hoping for, but he’s cynical to a fault and knows the likelihood of that happening is slim. It’s a huge thing to digest; it was difficult enough for Kurt when he first started working, even with all his understanding of the industry. But dare he hope? Keeping it to himself will drive him mad. Keeping it to himself is not fair. Not if he trusts that Blaine loves him.  
  
This would be a lot easier if Kurt didn’t have such a hard time putting his trust in love.


	7. The truth is, I have not been true.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Blaine Anderson got engaged and learned his best friend was a prostitute.

If you have ever been faced with telling someone the truth about something you know they are going to dislike, and dislike intensely for that matter, you know how hard it truly can be. You know the constant feeling of dread. You know the way the minutes seem to alternately tick by too fast and then slow to an agonizing crawl. You are then also quite familiar with how much easier it always seems to put it off than it seems to be to find the proper moment to do so.  
  
Kurt can’t even pretend he isn’t procrastinating the rare Friday night he has off and instead of calling Blaine he spends it watching the nature channel. But in his own defense, there hasn’t really been an opportune time to drop the bombshell on Blaine that he’s a prostitute.  
  
First Kurt isn’t ready and then Blaine takes a trip with Jeremiah. Blaine calls it _‘let’s remember why we like each other and work on our communication’_ and Kurt calls it the _‘lets forget that night you brained me with a wine bottle’_ trip. Kurt’s particular secret is not something he wants to admit over the phone so Kurt was naturally forced to wait, and the waiting and holding off is just easier in the long run. So much so that time has ticked by them and weeks have come and gone and still Kurt can’t bring himself to do it. No matter how much the secrecy hurts the thought of losing Blaine is worse.  
  
In the meanwhile Kurt has had to work, as he is still on thin ice with Sue. Maybe you can understand this and maybe you can’t, but just accepting that he’s going to tell Blaine one of these days has made Kurt’s job easier. Some of the pressure subsides. He is what he is, he likes it, and it’s almost 100% guaranteed that Blaine isn’t going to, so he might as well enjoy what he has because it’s looking like the only thing he’s going to have in a little while.  
  
That might sound a bit bitter and very cynical to you (but if you haven’t guessed by now, those are things Kurt knows how to do a little too well). You should know that the vacation away seems to have done wonders for Blaine and Jeremiah. They’ve become disgustingly domestic, to the point where Jeremiah is around _all_ the time, even when Kurt is over, and having to deal with Jeremiah’s smug superiority always puts Kurt on edge.  
  
What does Jeremiah dislike about Kurt so much? The question is better put what _doesn’t_ Jeremiah dislike about Kurt. Jeremiah doesn’t like the way Kurt dresses, the way he talks, the music he listens to, the lifestyle that he knows about (the work hard play harder image Kurt carries over from his pre-escorting days) and more understandably his close relationship with Blaine. Kurt on his most reasonable days can see how Jeremiah might be in a hard place with that one.  
  
On the one hand he’s in love with Blaine and would like his undivided attention, and it really isn’t too much to ask of your partner to come first before their friends; even their best friends. On the other hand he can’t ask Blaine to choose which one of them he wants in his life more, as on a basic level it’s a bitchy thing to do. A guy deserves friends outside of his romantic relationship.  
  
But the truth- the unpacked, closeted, and ignored ugly truth- of the matter is that Kurt and Blaine don’t operate like most friends. They have always danced wild in a shadowy in between, and the question remains unasked. If Blaine had to choose.  
  
Jeremiah and Kurt dislike each other and it’s not because they are opposite personalities.  
  
So of course Kurt dislikes the way Jeremiah is around so much lately, but he absolutely abhors how intent he seems on ‘befriending’ him since his and Blaine’s return from Paris. They both know their personalities are like oil and water, and while Kurt can be polite for Blaine’s sake they both know they are only tolerating each other and that no amount of polite chit chat and phony smiles can change that. They used to just avoid having to hang out together. He has no idea what happened to their unspoken truce but he would prefer its return- and yes it’s because he misses having Blaine to himself.  
  
As Blaine’s best friend he doesn’t think the desire is so damn unreasonable.  
  
******************************  
  
Kurt crawls out from underneath the covers of his bed and settles against the headboard. He can’t help his smile at how loose and languid his body feels. With all the stress of the past few months he’d forgotten how relaxing sex could be at times. He has been seeing Mark for over six months, but not because Sue found him for him. He’s Kurt’s accountant and as such he’s on the list of the few people who know what Kurt does for a living. It’s friendly, there’s no pressure and best of all Mark isn’t a client. He’s as close to a boyfriend Kurt has had in years but even better because there’s no expectations and no messy entanglements.  
  
“How much do I owe you then?” Kurt asks breathlessly, laughing again. It’s funny. How often is Kurt the one asking _that_ question after sex?  
  
“Erm….shall we say $200?” Mark asks as he puts on his glasses from the nightstand.  
  
“$200,” Kurt concurs, grabbing for his checkbook from where he’s left it by the bed, quickly scribbling his signature.  
  
“Don’t forget to put 40% away from now on, so you don’t get a nasty shock in April.”  
  
Kurt rolls his eyes as Mark repeats a lecture Kurt hears all too often from him, shoving the receipt inside his checkbook as he tosses it haphazardly back onto the nightstand. Mark verifies the details on the check, sighing heavily and for a moment he seems to be on another planet.  
  
“Everything alright?” Kurt asks, a friendly hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, I suppose,” he sighs again.  
  
“You sure?”  
  
Mark removes his glasses, looking at him seriously. “Sometimes there are things….that you do when….”  
  
“You can tell me whatever you want,” Kurt promise sincerely, shifting in bed to move closer to him.  
  
“There are things I think about,” Mark confesses intensely.  
  
“Well you must share.” Kurt loves getting into the psyche of his sexual partners, he loves giving them what they’ve always feared they’ll be refused, what they’ve never dared to verbalize. It makes sex an incredibly freeing experience, quite the adventure.  
  
“You’ve always been so nice to me.” Mark blushes.  
  
“Of course I have. If it wasn’t for you I’d still be sobbing over a shoebox overflowing with receipts.” Kurt laughs.  
  
“No. You see. I don’t _want_ you to be nice to me,” he admits, his face darkening. Kurt stares for a moment, caught completely off guard. He hadn’t expected that.  
  
He feels his eyebrows rise of their own accord. Well this could be _very_ interesting.

  
*******

  
  
That candid conversation with Mark is still playing in Kurt’s mind three days later as he and Blaine go for their weekly run along Riverside Drive. Now that its summer Kurt likes to exercise outside when he can and while it might be a bit inconvenient to run along Riverside the views are stunning and both of them enjoy the time outside and being together. Jeremiah prefers the gym so this is one of the few things he doesn’t join them on. Kurt loves their weekly run.  
  
“Blaine, is Jeremiah in charge of your relationship?” Kurt asks as they jog.  
  
“No one is _in charge_ , Kurt. We’re partners, equals.” Blaine looks startled.  
  
“Right, so you both decided that regardless of your perfect health you’re not going to eat any of the food you like, or even take a drink if the mood strikes you? You both decided it was okay for him to flip his shit if he finds you breaking any of these rules?” At Blaine’s darkening look Kurt relents. “Look Blaine I’m just saying that as far as power dynamic goes you....you...” Kurt struggles to find the words.  
  
“I what Kurt?” Kurt can see the frown forming on Blaine’s face and tries to step carefully.  
  
“You’re a worker bee Blaine, not the queen bee.” The tension eases as Blaine starts laughing disbelievingly. “I’m serious Blaine. You might be the bee that everyone sees, the one who makes the most noise but all of it’s work for the hive, for the queen and any honey you get you give to her and you’re happy about it.”  
  
“Kurt-”  
  
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing but even our best qualities can be setbacks if we don’t have a balance. Did you know honey bees work themselves to death? It’s true, don’t laugh. They go into a honey making frenzy just before winter and it frays their wings until they can’t fly.”  
  
“Okay then, as long as we’re going with the bee analogy here. Kurt you’re a queen bee, the biggest, undeniably special, and you draw people to you. Things happen around you and it’s great. But you’re stuck in the hive. You’re trapped by all of the buzzing of other bees telling you who you are and what you should or shouldn’t be and you’ve let it ground you and you can’t even see it. Get out of the hive Kurt get out of the hive.” Blaine is obviously teasing him, not taking the conversation seriously at all. Kurt sends him a withering look but he just chuckles.  
  
“I’m just saying it’s okay to keep some things for yourself sometimes,” he says.  
  
“And I do.” Blaine insists. “What brought this up?”  
  
“Well... I just started sleeping with this guy who’s quite into S&M,” Kurt tells him as if they’re chatting about the weather. He turns around, jogging on the spot as Blaine stops dead in his tracks, his confusion evident.  
  
“What guy?” Kurt can tell by the look on his face that he’s dying to add ‘dare I ask’.  
  
“Just this guy,” he replies as Blaine catches up to him. Kurt has always been honest with Blaine about when he is or isn’t sleeping with someone, just not that he’s getting paid for it. If no money exchanged hands then Kurt would be worshiped in the gay community for being the ultimate player but because it’s a transaction it’s suddenly completely different and he’s a whore.  
  
That aside, he’d wondered how Blaine would take the information considering that not over a month ago they’d kissed... but then again considering how wonderful things seem to be between him and Jeremiah these days, Blaine has no right to be upset. He doesn’t appear to be. He’s not thrilled, and his expression looks pensive but it definitely isn’t dark or thunderous, which is good because he has no right to be anyway.  
  
“Do I know him?”  
  
“I doubt it.” Kurt answers immediately. “I’m honestly kind of nervous. Don’t get me wrong, I love a great bondage ensemble but actually doing it during sex. Is it just me? All that pain and paraphernalia, I don’t really get it.”  
  
“I thought you were sleeping with that English guy?”  
  
“I sleep with a lot of people, Blaine.” Kurt reminds him casually. This is no big revelation, hardly anything new. He doesn’t know why the discussion feels so off. They run in silence after that and Kurt is oddly relieved.  
  
“Jesus you’re on form,” he pants a while later as they take a rest on a vacant bench, breaking into their water bottles. “You’re hardly breaking a sweat!”  
  
“Yeah well I need to be in shape for next year,” Blaine responds idly, his eyes transfixed on some flyer stapled to the bench to mark the anniversary of the death of some poet Kurt’s never heard of.  
  
“Why, what happens next year?” Kurt asks, taking a sip of his water.  
  
Blaine turns to him, shielding his eyes from the sun. He smiles tentatively. And then shyly like he’s asking his crush to the prom he says, “I’m getting married.”  
  
Kurt sits there stunned, his eyes and mouth wide open. For the first time in his life he is rendered well and truly speechless. His heart is beating ten to the dozen and he feels like all the breath has been knocked from his body; the silence lasts so long that he half expects the proverbial tumbleweed to roll past their feet.  
  
“To Jeremiah?!” It’s a dumb question but oddly the only one he can think of.  
  
“Of course to Jeremiah. Who else would I marry?” Blaine laughs, his face beaming and Kurt can see how damn happy he is, how bright his eyes have gotten and the way he says the word marry like it’s made of gold. Blaine is such a damn romantic, Kurt has always known this. Of course he loves the idea of white picket fences and fireplaces and dogs. Kurt smiles back and the stretch of it feels painful but he can’t do anything but attempt to give it; Blaine seems so happy.  
  
“Wow. That’s...that’s...really wow Blaine.” He sounds like an idiot and he’s sure he looks like one too, grinning with all his teeth and stammering.  
  
“I know. I can hardly believe it myself,” Blaine says, laughing with all the joy of a blushing bride and Kurt hugs him. Not because he’s at all happy but because he needs to compose himself and he doesn’t want Blaine to see.  
  
One. Two. Three. Breathe.  
  
This is okay. What really is he so upset about? It wasn’t like he was planning on marrying Blaine himself, and for all he knows they aren’t going to be friends that much longer anyway.  
  
Even if by some miracle Blaine takes his confession well, he still has no plans on marrying Blaine-or even dating him because lets face it, Blaine might accept him as a friend once he knows but Blaine with all his white picket fences and church bells isn’t going to want to be with a whore- so chin up, and game face on, because it isn’t all that bad. This is actually better.  
  
“You should have told me.” Kurt smiles easier this time. “I could have helped you pick out your rings.”  
  
“Oh we’ve already picked them out together,” Blaine cheerfully explains.  
  
Kurt’s brows furrow in confusion. It’s 9.30am. If Blaine proposed last night then how have they already had time to buy wedding bands?  
  
“When did you propose?” Blaine looks away suddenly.  
  
“It was in Paris.”  
  
Scratch what I said before, _now_ Kurt is speechless.  
  
“Paris?!” He repeats in disbelief. “As in the whole _‘we need a weekend away to try and save our relationship Paris’?_ The trip that you booked the night after we kissed?” Blaine winces at the mention of the kiss and that is just that last straw for Kurt.  
  
This is not okay. It isn’t better and he doesn't want to pretend like it is. He is angry, angrier than he has ever been in his entire life.  
  
“You know it is Kurt, that’s the only time I’ve been to Paris,” Blaine answers quietly, clearly uncomfortable. This is the first time either of them have mentioned _that_ kiss.  
  
“That was over a month ago!” Kurt practically yells.  
  
“It was a few weeks ago,” Blaine defends weakly.  
  
“It was five weeks ago, that makes it over a month.” Kurt is not playing games here, he is not going to give Blaine any wiggle room, he puts him straight sternly. “How could you go five weeks without telling me you’re engaged?”  
  
“Well you’re not exactly easy to track down these days,” Blaine points out.  
  
“We’ve seen each other loads of times since you got back from Paris!” Kurt argues. “Not even Jeremiah said anything. I’m not stupid Blaine. You _chose_ to keep this from me!”  
  
“You really have no right to talk to _me_ about keeping secrets!” Now Blaine is raising his voice as well, causing a group of tourists to turn around and stare. “Not when we both know there’s something huge you’re not telling me, and you say that you trust me but I haven’t seen you rushing to confide in me, so just stop, Kurt. Just stop. I don’t need to run everything by you. We haven’t been together for years, you can’t control me anymore!”  
  
“Control you? You can’t eat or drink or hang out with your friends unsupervised and _I’m_ the one controlling you?” Kurt’s voice actually lowers the angrier he gets. It’s soft and sharp cutting at Blaine deliberately.  
  
“You don’t like him Kurt. You’ve made that really clear by now, but what you can’t face is that it’s not because of who he is. It’s but because of who he is to me.”  
  
“Oh can’t I? Well as long as we’re on the subject, how about we talk about something you can’t face? Does he know that you were kissing me before you went skipping off to Paris?”  
  
“Yes!” Blaine shouts, and then quieter says, “I realize how weak and silly you think I am Kurt but I _want_ to make things work with Jeremiah. What I don’t want is to keep thinking about you every morning when I get up and still be thinking about you when I go to sleep. What I don’t want is to wake up beside you more upset over the fact that I can’t just stay with you than I am that I’ve just cheated on my boyfriend.”  
  
Kurt can’t speak. He can’t do anything but stare and try not to shake and bite back tears because yes, finally that day has come. They are opening up that box and as always the truth lets out. Blaine is in love with him. Kurt has always known this.  
  
“I told him and now he knows what everyone else does, that I’ve always belonged to you; but I just can’t anymore. Because it hurts, it hurts like hell, and as much as I love you I have to stop being _in_ love with you. I want to be with someone... completely... forever, as long as he will have me. _That_ Kurt, that is what I’m keeping for myself.”  
  
You need to know why this is so important, why this sets Kurt’s whole world reeling and threatens to break everything apart. Kurt and Blaine have not always been together, but they have always been _for_ each other. They know that deep in the lining of their hearts. They gravitate to each other, revolve around one another, and no matter what wrong they have done and said to each other in the past there has never been a moment where that has changed.  
  
And now Blaine says ‘I can’t belong to you’ and Kurt’s world begins to dissolve around him.  
  
You have to understand. He’s not weak and he’s not desperate. It isn’t hopelessness or depression that assails him. It’s complete and utter lostness. The lostness that only comes with having no idea which way is up, or down, or north, or south, because everything has suddenly changed on you. The lostness of finding yourself in new country. Lostness isn’t even a word but in this strange new world it carries the utmost meaning.  
  
In moments such as these there is only one thing to do; hold desperately to what you know, keep yourself together, and hope that eventually the world around you becomes familiar. Survive. This is something Kurt is expert in.  
  
“I think that you got engaged for the wrong reasons,” Kurt says softly after taking a deep breath. He sounds on the edge of tears but his eyes are strangely dry. He stands up. “And not because you aren’t right about us. You deserve to be in a whole relationship, to have those things you said you wanted and we both know I can’t give them to you.” Blaine opens his mouth but Kurt isn’t done.  
  
“But he can’t either, Blaine. He hasn’t accepted who you are any more than you have.”  
  
The words are coming out but Kurt doesn’t know from where, he doesn’t know what to do right now, doesn’t want to still be there.  
  
“What is that supposed to mean? Just who am I supposed to be, Kurt?”  
  
‘ _Mine_ ’ He almost says it. He almost makes himself that pathetic, almost sets himself up for total rejection. He shakes his head and mumbles something like an apology and starts jogging off in the opposite direction; one of them has to leave before things escalate, before they can set themselves up for a fall.  
  
This is not a movie, this is not Pretty f’ing Woman and no one marries a whore.

 

*********

  
Later that day he tries to forget about his argument with Blaine the way he always does, by throwing himself into work. After his weekly meeting with Sue he hangs back after the other boys leave to discuss Mark with someone a little more knowledgeable.  
  
“You know I was a Dom for a while when I was a little younger than you. It’s my favorite sexual past time but you should know there’s not much money in it,” She explains frankly as she pours herself another cup of whatever putrid drink is brewing in her tea kettle.  
  
“I’m not changing careers,” Kurt reassures her. “It’s just something I want to try out.”  
  
“Ah I see. I should have seen this coming. A gals got to get her own in somewhere. In fact it’s perfectly understandable; do this job long enough and you just want to strangle someone without all those pesky police charges.”  
  
“It’s not like that. I like him, he’s sweet. In fact he’s an accountant. He does my taxes.”  
  
“Really?” Sue smirks with a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Boy Porcelain, that’s one hefty end of year bonus.”  
  
“I think he has wanted to ask me for a while,” Kurt explains as Sue mutters something to Becky who has come again to take the tea tray. “He’s shy. I don’t think he would look elsewhere. I want to help him.”  
  
“Becky. Get me Sandy’s number,” Sue snaps at Becky’s retreating back. “Sandy is an old associate of mine. He runs a dungeon over in Queens, he’ll help you get your feet wet.”  
  
“Great.” Kurt smiles in satisfaction.  
  
“When you see him,” Sue continues once Becky has brought her the number. “Tell the bastard that despite your dough baby face you aren’t in fact an adolescent boy so he’s not to touch you. I would find it quite gross.”

  
  
******

  
  
“Good morning, can I take a few minutes of your time to talk to you about Jesus?”  
  
“You must be Sandy,” Kurt laughs as he answers the door the day after his conversation with Sue to see an older looking guy (balding and with glasses) dressed head to toe in leather outside his door. An portly man in plain jeans and a t-shirt is standing behind him with his head bowed.  
  
“And you must be Porcelain.” Sandy nods his head in answer.  
  
Kurt leads them into the living room and before he can even properly introduce himself Sandy is barking orders at the other man as he attempts to sit on the settee.  
  
“Excuse yourself! I don’t think so,” he sneers. “On the floor position one!”  
  
The man immediately drops to his knees and pulls his t-shirt off his head. Sandy turns to face Kurt. “Pardon us. He’s not allowed to wear clothes indoors.”  
  
“Oh don’t worry I’m used to it,” Kurt answers flippantly, waving his hand in ascent. “Can I get you a drink?”  
  
“Oh I’d love a little sparkling water if you have it,” Sandy answers as he sits down on the couch with legs crossed, the other man now completely naked accept for a leather thong, kneeling with his head bowed once again and barely even breathing; the epitome of obedience. Kurt doesn’t find him particularly attractive but there’s definitely something appealing about the complete and utter control Sandy has over the man.  
  
“It’s not a problem,” Kurt calls as he opens the fridge and grabs a bottle and a glass. An escort always has a well stocked fridge and drinks cabinet. Kurt gestures to the man on the floor. “What about…”  
  
“Oh Ken won’t even look at you without my permission, let alone answer your question,” Sandy explains before adopting a louder, harsher tone. “Do you want something to drink pet?!”  
  
“Yes master” the man answers immediately, his eyes never leaving the floor.  
  
“Then _you_ can drink out of the nice man’s toilet,” Sandy answers abruptly.  
  
“Actually I’d rather he didn’t,” Kurt tells them quickly, amazed that the man is getting up to do exactly that. He’s just put bleach down and the last thing he needs is someone dying in his apartment. His life is out of control enough as it is.  
  
“Sit!” Sandy shouts immediately causing Ken to resume his earlier position. Sandy flounces into the kitchen and fills a bowl of water and places it on the floor for the man to lap up like a dog.  
  
“So tell me, Porcelain. Why not send your friend my way?” Sandy asks as he sits back down elegantly.  
  
‘Because you might be insane’ Kurt thinks. “I’m curious,” he says instead.  
  
“Wonderful. You know what they say. Curiosity. The first step to enlightenment.” Sandy smiles knowingly.  
  
“I thought it killed the cat?”  
  
“Porcelain, I like you. I like anyone with an open mind and clean shoes. But you have to know I take this job _very_ seriously. Some people meditate, some people pray, and fetish is **not** something for escorts to retire to once their dicks have started to shrivel up. Every thing’s in working order isn’t it? I can check it for you.”  
  
“I’m just fine thank you,” Kurt tells him in no uncertain terms.  
  
“Oh well.” Sandy sighs sadly. “Then lets begin shall we.” He passes Kurt his empty glass before standing up and clapping his leather clad hands. He unhooks a riding crop from his belt.  
  
“Alright pay attention, it breaks down into cross dress, role play, Japanese rope bondage, dog training, maid training, dildo training, slaves, feet and medical. But you’re just a beginner. Is your friend married?”  
  
“Yeah. The wife doesn’t know,” Kurt adds as a last thought.  
  
“Shame. All these secrets,” Sandy says with a sniff and Kurt stares at him startled. A small shiver passes down his spine.  
  
“So…..how do I avoid leaving marks?” He asks hastily in hopes to stop the uncomfortable feeling that washes over him.  
  
“How do I avoid leaving marks?” Sandy mimics aghast. “Kill yourself! You have to build up. Light spanking, light flogging, soft leather; this increases the circulation.” He smacks Ken’s ass rapidly. “Get it red, the fluid in the tissue acts as a cushion– far less likely to split or bruise. Then you can wind that bad boy up and go to town.”  
  
Kurt actually feels sick as the spanking continues only to stop abruptly.  
  
“Position two!” Of course Ken immediately complies, bending onto all fours.  
  
“Avoid…and avoid.” Sandy explains, running the riding crop lightly over the two areas of Ken’s back with very little flesh. “Now get off the carpet – you disgust me!”  
  
“Yes master,” Ken mumbles submissively as he stands up.  
  
“Before we go any further can I use your little boys room?” Sandy asks politely.  
  
“Yeah sure, it’s down the corridor on the right.”  
  
As Sandy leaves Kurt sits on the couch, trying to digest everything he has just seen. He’s very aware of Ken still standing as still as a statue in front of him. He doesn’t look at Kurt or say anything; Kurt imagines that he wouldn’t dare. But it’s still unnerving, almost surreal.  
  
“Slave! Wipe!” Kurt’s eyes almost pop out of his head as at Sandy’s yell Ken quickly trots off to the bathroom, and he can guess what he’s about to do. Suffice to say that Kurt decides that will _not_ be happening with Mark. No one has had anything to do with his toilet habits since he was in diapers and he plans to keep it that way.  
  
“That’s not a bad lark’s head,” Sandy praises fifteen minutes later as they sit at the table. He’s giving Kurt a crash course in the art of knots .  
  
“How does the sex work?” Kurt asks almost as an after thought, there has been so much to take in that he’d almost forgotten to inquire about the main event.  
  
Sandy looks down at him. “Well if you really want to be armatures I suppose you could fool around. I never have sex with my clients.”  
  
“What, none at all?” Kurt must say he’s slightly shocked. “How do you know when you’re done?”  
  
“My watch beeps. Porcelain, I’m a God to my clients. There’s no way I’d lower myself to let them touch me. No one gets to touch this. And besides, I’m a happily married man.”  
  
Kurt is genuinely shocked by this. “Really? Does your husband know about what you do?”  
  
“Well I hope so; our front room’s a dungeon.” They both burst out laughing, any remaining tension completely vanishing. Kurt is amazed at the idea that this admittedly strange man in front of him could be happily married when his job is something so unconventional like...escorting.  
  
“Is he in the business?” Kurt asks.  
  
“Oh, no, Oliver owns the cutest little specialty book shop, but he often sits during my sessions. He likes to dither about in the background; drinking coffee, reading the Times.”  
  
“That must be nice, having someone to share it with.” Kurt muses out loud.  
  
“Oh it is. I’ve always been such a stud, I know people didn’t think I’d ever settle down and then there was Oliver in his little bike shorts laying beneath the wheels of my car,” Sandy reminisces with a dreamy sigh. “And the best part is I can still work. Oliver writes horror novels in his spare time, and he says my work is great inspiration for his torture scenes. It’s wonderful being married to someone who understands you. And what _you_ need to understand is that for a lot of men this is an incredibly freeing experience. It’s not him doing all these horrible, dirty things. Their master is making them do it - they have no choice.”  
  
Kurt nods slowly. “I guess it must be nice; not having to make the decisions, not being the one in control, peaceful almost. And for you, it’s got to be a great feeling knowing that for a few hours at least one person belongs to you. That you can do anything and they’ll accept it.”  
  
‘They’ll stay’ echos in Kurt’s mind.  
  
Sandy smiles with what appears to be pride. “I think you’re ready.”  
  
Kurt spends the rest of the day getting ready; he pays a visit to his regular sex shop, then a more specialised sex shop to purchase all the things he’s going to need. He’s aware that Blaine is trying to get in contact with him but he’s far too busy and to be honest he doesn’t really want to talk to him at the moment.  
  
Before Mark arrives he moves the furniture out of the way in the front room so they’ve got more space. He hangs a blackout curtain at the window and covers the walls in black material to give the affect of a rudimentary dungeon and self-assembles a spanking bench and positions it in the middle of the room. He lights a few candles but otherwise turns out the lights, then he gets dressed.  
  
Kurt knows how to rock leather (Kurt knows how to rock any material just give him unlimited funds and space) and he completely owns the skin tight pants and boots he’s wearing now. As Mark requested it’s all he’s wearing, but Kurt has taken some creative license and draped his whip around his neck like a decorative scarf.  
  
To finish the look off he has applied plenty of dark eyeliner to make his already bright eyes brighter and added a little gloss to his lips. He views himself critically in the mirror. His skin looks pale and flawless as always, and the pants cling to his long legs and point out the trimness of his waist just the way he likes. Shirtless his broad chest and the surprising tone in his arms is at its best advantage. He looks good. He feels good. Kurt Hummel is back on top of things.  
  
His phone beeps to let him know he has another message.  
  
 _“Kurt, I’m sorry you’re upset. You have a right to be but this had to happen sooner or later. But we’re still friends and we have to work this out. Please call me.”_  
  
Kurt deletes Blaine’s message and closes his phone as he hears Mark knocking on the door; he’ll have to speak to Blaine eventually, he knows that, but not right now. Blaine’s not the only one who can do things for himself.  
  
“Close the door,” Kurt demands as the accountant enters, handing Mark a leather thong that he’d picked up in the shop. “Clothes off, wear this. Kneel here.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Yes what?!” He barks at him, feeling a thrill as he catches the way Mark shivers in anticipation.  
  
“Yes master!” Mark closes his eyes, trying to prevent himself from smiling in delight. They’ve worked everything out in advance; a script, a scenario, even the insults Kurt’s going to use have been agreed via e-mail. It doesn’t seem to make it any less thrilling for either of them.  
  
“Hands behind your back,” Kurt tells him as they stand in front of some of his dining furniture. “Do as I say.”  
  
As he sits down on the chair Kurt forces a bar gag into his mouth. Kurt ties Mark’s hands behind his back before removing the whip slowly from around his neck. He runs the smooth leather enticingly down Mark’s bare chest. The other man can’t help but moan as it brushes his sensitive nipples.  
  
“You know it was very wrong of you,” Kurt whispers, bending down until his lips brush lightly against Mark’s naked flesh. “Trying to get away from me. You don’t like being imprisoned very much do you? You don’t like the way I torture you.”  
  
Mark begs through the gag but it’s muffled.  
  
“You’ll need to speak up love, I can’t hear you.”  
  
“Please let me go!” The muffled pleas make something inside Kurt spark and he wonders at how similar it is to anger. He smiles at Mark.  
  
“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You’re my prisoner and I like you that way. You’re not going anywhere.”  
  
Twenty minutes later Mark’s lying on the floor, just as they’d agreed on, as Kurt is straddling him and Mark’s arms are strapped to the chair legs. The boots Kurt wears have little spikes attached to them, not sharp enough to break the skin but he imagines they will smart when he uses them. Right now he is focusing on Mark’s nipples.  
  
“Stop moving,” he instructs calmly.  
  
“Sorry master,” Mark whines pathetically.  
  
“I’m going to have to punish you, pet” Kurt warns him in a sing song voice as he adjusts one of Mark’s nipple clamps.  
  
“No master. I don’t think I can take any more.” Mark sounds desperate and as much as Kurt’s head is swimming right now with strange feelings he doesn’t want to hurt Mark. Mark has his complete attention.  
  
“Really?” He asks, falling out of character and looking down at him.  
  
“Yes master, please stop,” he begs rather convincingly.  
  
“Okay get up if you want,” Kurt says in his normal voice climbing off of him.  
  
Mark pauses, clearly not wanting to break character but unsure of how to proceed. “No I’m a _bad_ slave.”  
  
“Yes you are,” Kurt agrees seriously before adding, “but if you want, you can just get up.”  
  
He doesn’t really know what to do now, he doesn’t want to hurt him and having never done this before he’s not sure how to proceed. Then he remembers the advice from Sandy about safe words, and the system on which Mark and he agreed on during their correspondence. “Red, yellow or green?”  
  
“Green,” Mark says immediately.  
  
“Oh right, sorry” Kurt sighs, he pushes Mark roughly back down and swings his legs over his hips again and tightens the clamp on is right nipple.  
  
“What shall I do next master?” Mark asks expectantly. His face is flushed and his erection presses up against Kurt where he sits over his thighs.  
  
To that though Kurt doesn’t have an answer. He’s hesitant to move forward. While this is undeniably hot, it’s also strange and he’s not sure his reactions to it are quite what they should be. He feels compressed inside like a bomb just waiting to go off. He’s frightened at the stream of emotions that flow beneath his skin.  
  
“Just a minute,” he tells Mark as he gets up and starts to trot to his bedroom, he turns back as he realises that Mark is probably waiting for another insult. “You disgust me!”  
  
“Sandy it’s Porcelain.” He whispers moments later into his phone. “I’m...I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do next.”  
  
Kurt hears him chuckle on the other end. _“Do you have any housework that needs doing?”_  
  
Kurt can’t help but laugh; no wonder Sandy enjoys his job so much. “Yeah I could do that”. That sounds safe enough to Kurt.  
  
Ten minutes later he’s reclining on his bed, reading and firing orders as Mark cleans wearing nothing but his leather thong. He doesn’t know why he does it, he’s not expecting calls from anyone except Blaine but his hands move as if they have a mind of their own.  
  
 _You have seven new voice messages_ the automated service tells him as he logs into his voicemail. He skips the previous six and listens to the final message.  
  
 _“Look you don’t want to be with me. You’ve made that pretty clear so you have no right to be in such a snit because I finally want to be with somebody else. You want to be an ass fine, but at least drop me a text and let me know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere.”_  
  
Kurt calls Blaine back immediately, pacing back and forth across his bedroom floor.  
  
“You think I’m being an ass?” he asks before Blaine’s even finished saying hello.  
  
 _“Well hello to you too stranger.”_  
  
“I’m not the one who was too scared to tell his best friend that he’s getting married. Six weeks ago you went to Paris!”  
  
 _“It was five and for the last time Kurt this isn’t about you.”_  
  
“Don’t be a liar,” Kurt hisses. “We don’t lie to each other. You want to stop being in love with me fine! You want to skip off into the sunset with Jeremiah and adopt a couple of babies fine! But if that’s it, if that’s all there is to it, why couldn’t you tell me!”  
  
 _“No, Kurt! I don’t lie to **you**. You have a lot of nerve asking me to be sorry I kept something from you when your entire life is a mystery to me! I’m not the one who has been hiding things, and I’m not the one who can’t share anything real about himself. I can’t even come around to your apartment anymore without there being some sort of crisis, and not once have you introduced me to any of your boyfriends or fuck buddies or whatever you want to call them. This is not how it works. You don’t get all of me while I get nothing of you. You want everything but you don’t give anything back, Kurt, and it’s over! You don’t get all of me anymore and you asking for it is incredibly selfish.”_  
  
Kurt slams the phone shut, absolutely furious. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him (you can’t when you do what he does) but when Blaine talks to him like that it cuts too deep. He feels like there is an earthquake in his guts, a volcano erupting inside.  
  
He and Blaine are falling apart; losing each other. Turning away. It’s happening. It’s happening. Only it’s not like he thought. He can’t think, he can’t breathe as emotions so intense they clog his throat assail him.  
  
Why? Why is this happening right now? Kurt hasn’t even told him...  
  
And there. That’s the problem. He has been such a coward. He hasn’t told him the truth when he has known all along that sooner or later the secret would kill them. They’re dying anyway it seems because Blaine wants to marry someone else.  
  
Kurt sinks to the floor and hugs his knees.  
  
Someone else.  
  
Heis the most selfish person on the planet because he doesn’t want to ever get married himself but he doesn’t want Blaine to do it either. He really is being a terrible friend and Blaine is right about it all. They can’t go 50/50 on this, it’s all or nothing. Unless...  
  
Kurt is up and out the front door nearly a second later. He doesn’t bother explaining to Mark what he can barely explain to himself. What he knows is he can’t be that stupid. He won’t lose the best friend he has ever had because he’s too selfish to let him find happiness and too much of a coward to tell the truth.  
  
Despite the fact that it’s late and dark outside he walks/runs the twenty five minutes to Blaine’s apartment. He curses the fact that he didn’t remember to grab his wallet before he left but it doesn’t stop him and he absolutely can’t turn back. Getting to Blaine and fixing the mess he has made is all that matters because if not his whole life, it certainly means the quality of it. He looks crazed he knows he does, he knows people are staring at him because yeah it might be summer and yes it’s New York but still, respectable people don’t run around shirtless in leather pants and spiked boots. He looks even crazier standing outside Blaine’s door and pounding on it.  
  
“Blaine Anderson open this door! I _am_ a hypocrite but at least I’m not a fucking coward!” After incessantly buzzing and then banging for what seems like an hour the door finally jerks open.  
  
Jeremiah is standing on the other side. His eyes widen at Kurt’s appearance and Kurt can only be thankful he’s no longer wearing the whip. Then Jeremiah is scowling at him like he wants nothing more than to say something nasty but he keeps his voice clipped and polite as he speaks.  
  
“Kurt are you out of your mind?”  
  
“I’m sorry.” He really isn’t. “Is Blaine home?”  
  
“You do know I was sleeping? While you may go out clubbing on a weeknight,” Jeremiah’s eyes rake over his attire once again, “I have to work in the morning. Goodnight Kurt.” The door shuts smartly on his face.  
  
Kurt turns, feeling out of sorts and crushed again. He knows he can’t leave without telling Blaine the truth, he just can’t. The next thing he knows his phone is in his hand and he’s typing a text message.  
  
 _Check out Porcelain at www.cheeriosescorts.biz/boys_  
  
His thumb hovers over the send button for a moment. He breathes deep. One. Two. Three.  
  
And it’s done. It’s over.  
  
Just then the elevator doors open down the hall and Blaine strolls out them carrying a bag from 7-11. Blaine stops mid stride and stares like he’s seen some sort of ghost.  
  
Kurt is frozen at first, taking in his shorts and his t-shirt and the sleepy way his curls are mused and a tiny part of him wishes he were different, that he could be with Blaine completely, forever, as long as he will have him.  
  
“Kurt, what are you doing here?” Blaine asks as Kurt walks toward him. His courage returns.  
  
“I wanted to tell you that I forgot to say congratulations.” Blaine's eyes widen and Kurt goes on, “I’ve forgotten so much lately, like how to be a good friend and more importantly how much our friendship means to me. You were right Blaine. I’ve been so selfish with you. I just need you to know that I love you and that I’ve loved you for years but I just couldn’t be...I can’t be what you need me to be.” They are toe to toe now gazing at each other.  
  
Kurt reaches for Blaine and leans down slightly to press his lips to his, quickly and tenderly. He doesn’t need Blaine to kiss him back. This is closure on everything that has come before. Kurt is shutting the door that Blaine’s kiss that night that seems so long ago opened up. He will never open it again, he will let Blaine find his happiness.  
  
“We’re best friends. We always have been and that’s more important to me than anything,” he whispers, his forehead pressed to Blaine's. Blaine’s hands hover just over his waist as if they are afraid to settle there. Kurt understands. “Just please _please_ remember that.”  
  
As Kurt leaves he hears Blaine’s phone alerting him he has a text.


	8. Barely covered broken hearts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Kurt met Brian.

Five days ago Kurt told his best friend that he’s a prostitute. He hasn’t said a _single_ word about it.  
  
Kurt had stayed up that whole night unable to sleep and then waited anxiously all day for Blaine to call him… and nothing. Just nothing. He’d spent the following day sick at the thought that maybe Blaine hadn’t opened the message, maybe it was now lost in a backlog of forgotten messages that will never be found, maybe he’ll have to pluck up his courage all over again and tell him face to face this time.  
  
The day after that Blaine calls- Kurt nearly faints- and Blaine asks him to lunch. That’s how he knows for certain that Blaine read his message. When nearly an hour had gone by with Blaine chatting about nothing and Kurt nearly going crazy, he’d taken the opportunity to check Blaine’s phone inbox while he was in the bathroom. It was there, and yes he has opened it.  
  
So then of course Kurt wonders if he has bothered to check the website yet and that eats at him until the next day when he’s over at Blaine’s place.  
  
Kurt checks his visited web pages, and yes indeed someone has accessed the cheerios website. So unless Jeremiah is keeping some pretty nasty secrets of his own, Blaine does indeed know and is choosing not to discuss it.  
  
It’s driving Kurt mad because while he doesn’t want to force him, he also can’t stand the waiting either. It’s like there’s this huge elephant in the room that neither of them dare talk about; a giant, brazen whoring white elephant. Of all the possible and sometimes ridiculous possibilities Kurt had concocted when he was deciding how to tell Blaine, this was not one of them.  
  
Does Blaine really think they can just ignore it? Kurt had expected a lot of bad reactions and while they would have all hurt and they were all terrible, he thinks this is the worst one of them all. Because any reaction good or bad would mean that Blaine at least cared enough to confront who he is. Even rejection spurred by anger has some care behind it. Apathy… apathy is empty.  
  
He really doesn’t know what to do from here; their friendship has been under a lot of strain in the last couple of months and it’s barely holding up as it is. He doesn’t know if it could take another confrontation in such a short space of time.  
  
He has tried to get Blaine to talk about it. Not by confronting him directly true but he has presented Blaine with every opportunity. Like telling Blaine that he has been working too hard lately and that he needs to pick up some ‘supplies’. Anything that might prompt Blaine to acknowledge what he has told him.  
  
Is it really so bad that Blaine can’t even handle talking about it? Kurt wonders. He has admitted to being an escort, not a serial killer. Has he been wildly narcissistic? Perhaps finding out your best friend has spent the past few years working as an escort isn’t even considered newsworthy these days.  
  
Apparently so, because instead of sitting down to talk about his huge bombshell confession they’ve gone out to lunch again and now he’s helping Blaine pick out a suit for his wedding. Everything has been plastic smiles and chatter about nothing whilst both of them look at each other with a hundred other things they want to say on the tips of their tongue. Kurt’s life is strange.  
  
So since Blaine has disappeared into the changing room with over a dozen suits (none of them that Kurt particularly approves of but has to allow because Blaine has his own style and likes to stick to it) Kurt decides to try some on for himself. Blaine has not asked Kurt to be his best man yet, but- though there is some fearfulness over the matter- Kurt is mostly confident that he will. It’s not like Blaine has a brother, he wouldn’t ask his father, and quite honestly the world might stop and gasp appalled if it learns that Kurt Hummel isn’t Blaine Anderson’s best man; they’re that close.  
  
Right after it gets over the shock that Kurt Hummel isn’t the other groom but, whatever.  
  
Kurt thinks that Jeremiah probably has something to do with the delay; it’s his wedding too and prostitutes and fairytale weddings don’t really mix. He already thinks Kurt’s amoral and he doesn’t even know what Kurt does for a living. That and Kurt has been the proverbial ‘other woman’ for years. So yes, Kurt isn’t too worried. Blaine is going to need some time to get all parties on board and all that, and in the meanwhile he can figure out what he’s going to wear.  
  
Kurt is checking himself out in a black morning suit with red waistcoat (it’s going on his list of favorites) when his phone starts ringing in his jeans pocket, which are draped over a chair with the rest of his clothes.  
  
“Hello?” He answers.  
  
_“How do you fancy a threesome this evening?”_ Sue asks immediately, getting straight down to business. _“Haven’t set you up on one for months, client wants two of you.”_  
  
“Who’s the other boy?” Kurt asks, he might as well find out what’s going on before he agrees to anything.  
  
_“Haven’t decided yet.”_  
  
“I’m not working with Jake.” Kurt is unwilling to budge on that; everyone at Cheerios knows that they can’t stand each other, in fact their relationship makes Jeremiah and Kurt look like kindred spirits.  
  
_“Porcelain, do you think I’m an idiot?”_ Kurt knows from experience not to answer that, not even as a joke. _“The client wants a threesome, not to referee two kindergartners in a pigtail pulling fight. While you two were measuring your wee wee’s the client would either be dead asleep or calling me and I’d have to chop them both off for offending me.”_  
  
“What about Josef?”  
  
_“No sireebob. He took an unfortunate tumble down a flight of steps the other day.”_  
  
“Ethan?”  
  
_“Tickets to see Hairspray.”_  
  
“Again?!” Kurt asks incredulously. “How many times is that now? Three? Four?”  
  
_“Porcelain, it’s a sickness. While his loved ones look on in agony not only does our little Ethan corrupt his very soul, he single-handedly contributes to the myth that all gay men love musical theater.”_  
  
“So what’s the client like, that one of us isn’t enough?” Kurt asks idly.  
  
_“It’s Victor.”_  
  
Now Sue has his full attention.  
  
“Victor? As in every second Wednesday since I started Victor?”  
  
_“The very same. Sometimes two heads are better than one…literally”_ Sue laughs haughtily. _“I’ll find someone and call you back.”_  
  
Victor. Wow. Of all Kurt’s clients he would never have put money on Victor wanting a threesome; he has never mentioned anything of the sort before.  
  
“Kurt?” he hears Blaine call outside.  
  
“In here.”  
  
Blaine opens the curtains and sees Kurt in the wedding suit he picked out and stops for the barest of seconds before he smiles.  
  
“Isn’t there some rule about passing up the groom at the wedding?” Inside Kurt warms.  
  
“That would be the bride, but point taken as we all know you’re the blushing bride in the equation.”  
  
“So while you look fantastic as always, how about giving me your opinion?” Blaine gestures to the suit he wears.  
  
Kurt casts a critical eye over the beige suit. The white on beige theme is striking against Blaine’s black hair and the trousers fit him in that ‘I could be a pair of skinny jeans in another life’ way that Kurt knows Blaine likes….. but still.  
  
“When is the wedding again?”  
  
“I keep telling you, 22nd of February.”  
  
“22nd of February _1978_?”  
  
“Oh come on Kurt-”  
  
“No don’t ‘come on Kurt’ me. This one’s a definite miss. Seriously Blaine, in my parent’s wedding photos my Dad is wearing almost the exact same suit. As your friend I am morally obligated to kill you if you wear that on your wedding day.”  
  
“But I like it.”  
  
“I love you and your style Blaine but let’s face it, every man has to suck it up on their wedding day and conform. Go elegant, Cary Grant, less Andy Warhol.”  
  
Kurt has of course prepared for this moment. As they strolled through the isles he’d picked out what he’d thought were the best choices. He goes to the chair where they wait draped and places his selections in Blaine’s waiting arms.  
  
Blaine obediently tries them on one after the other and yes, it’s the last one that’s perfect as Kurt had known it would be the moment he’d seen it on the racks. It’s a reverse on the norm, alabaster white with black buttons, lapels and cuffs. It highlights Blaine’s dark features beautifully and Kurt can’t help but feel a rush of pleasure at the sight of him. He doesn’t feel bad about it either. He’s an artist, he’s allowed to appreciate his art and this is truly one of his best works.  
  
“Wow. So maybe this is okay too.” Blaine admits with a smile as he observes himself in the mirror and Kurt smiles triumphantly.  
  
“I’m a genius. You can thank me in eternal groveling.” When Blaine links their arms Kurt leans against him and they eye the mirror. The picture they make, it’s so chic and just right looking that Kurt wants to take a picture. “You really do look gorgeous in white Blaine. ‘Here comes the bride, all dressed in white.” Kurt sing songs.  
  
Blaine gives him a genuine smile, and Kurt feels the familiar fluttering in his stomach that sometimes comes from just being close to Blaine.  
  
“Here comes the groom, skinny as a broom.” Blaine pinches Kurt’s hipbone and he yelps twisting away from him.  
  
The playful moment is lost however when the shop owner whips back the curtain to see what’s taking them so long. Spotting them standing by the mirror with wide grins on their faces a bright smile overtakes her own.  
  
“You two make quite the picture. But don’t you know it’s bad luck to see your partner all dressed up before the big day?” She chides, tutting and wagging her finger. Kurt’s stomach drops as all the levity between them begins to visibly slip away.  
  
“Oh I’m not marrying him he’s just here to help,” Blaine corrects her as if this should be obvious. She stares at them in obvious confusion.  
  
“Oh...I’m so sorry. I just assumed-”  
  
Blaine is so uncomfortable about the subject that he marches off to where he left his clothes like he can’t leave the shop fast enough. So Kurt closes the curtain and gets dressed himself. After they leave the shop they walk the short distance to one of their favorite cafes in almost silence, and exchange very few words of any substance until they’ve sat down with their drinks.  
  
Kurt assumes Blaine is so tense because of that shop keeper mistaking them for partners, and he can understand why. He has accepted that Blaine is moving on and all that but feelings don’t disappear in a day, or five, so the comment was just further reminder of everything Blaine wants but Kurt can’t give him.  
Only Kurt is completely wrong. Blaine is upset for other reasons.  
  
“I heard you on the phone before,” Blaine says finally, playing with his straw. “Back in the wedding shop, talking about….your work.” Kurt freezes.  
  
Okay so he has been dying for this moment to get here already but wow, unexpected. And why now?  
  
“I was starting to think that you were never going to bring it up.” He offers Blaine a weak smile but the other man isn’t really looking at him. His eyes are fixed on his hands, twisting the straw.  
  
“Well, it’s not exactly like chatting about the weather,” Blaine says evenly. “Not something you suddenly bring up randomly.”  
  
Interesting. This seems pretty random to Kurt. Still he waits, his heart beating just a little too fast.  
  
“You’ve probably been waiting.” Blaine goes on to say. “And I know that, but I want to make one thing very clear. I…. care about you Kurt.” And now Blaine is looking at him, too intensely with too much feeling for one man to possibly bottle up inside. “I always have, and it’s not something I want to screw up. We’ve come so close to doing just that so many times.”  
  
“Blaine I-”  
  
“No, please just let me finish.” Kurt closes his mouth and nods, and Blaine takes a deep breath. “I went to that website and saw those pictures, saw you, and everything just started to make sense. I felt so stupid for not seeing it, for not... not being there to stop you, to save you. I felt sick...I felt a lot of things. And then I was so mad, I couldn’t figure out why anyone would choose to live that way, why you of all people when you’re...when you’re _you_ Kurt. And then I was angry at everybody else but you, because I know who you are Kurt and I could see it. I could see why, and I was just so furious that the world could see someone like you and not just...love you and give you everything. I felt a lot of things, wanted to say a hundred more and none of it was sane or particularly put together. None of it would have done anything but hurt us both. I don’t know what to say, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. So I just...want to step carefully. Can you understand that?”  
  
Kurt can’t speak past the lump in his throat so he nods instead.  
  
“So the night Regina had the baby,” Blaine starts again slowly. “Jesus, I can’t believe I’m asking you this. When Kyle was born- the night I couldn’t get you on the phone- were you working then?”  
  
Kurt nods again, not trusting himself to do anything else.  
  
“And the carpet burns up your arms?” Blaine motions to the marks on Kurt’s arms that he got from an appointment a few days before when they’d ended up on the hotel floor.  
  
“A client,” he answers on a whisper and Blaine winces.  
  
“Is there even a Clark’s?”  
  
“There is, I just don’t work for them.” Kurt admits.  
  
“Were you doing it when we were still seeing each other?”  
  
“No!” Kurt promises vehemently. “It was after. I’d never have done that to you.”  
  
“Me?” Blaine’s voice is sharp now. “Kurt why are you doing it to _yourself_?” Kurt can see how hard Blaine is struggling to keep his composure, not to judge, and not to yell half the things that are evident behind his unguarded eyes and if Kurt hadn’t already loved him before he’d love him now. No matter how angry Blaine is and how unpleasant that might feel at the current moment it’s finally now sinking in that Blaine knows- that Blaine is angry and sad and all manner of things- but he isn’t leaving.  
  
Will he ever understand though? Kurt knows right now that his rescue is foremost in Blaine’s mind and he’s charting carefully through previously unexplored waters. Will there come a day when Blaine does not worry that Kurt is trapped, does not feel such disgust over his life choices? He hopes so.  
  
“Would you believe me if I told you I enjoyed it?” He asks. “Because I do, I really do. No one tricked me into this. I’ve always loved sex and this seemed like an adventure, and it is. There are bad parts, sure, but every job has its bad parts. I have fun most of the time, and I don’t regret it. Just the distance it put between us. I’ve always regretted that and I’m sorry for lying to you.”  
  
Blaine regards Kurt for a long moment, not moving, not sipping his coffee, just staring at him intensely as if he can peer into Kurt’s soul and understand its workings; but whatever thoughts go through his head he keeps to himself.  
  
“So what is it that you’re doing tonight?” When Blaine finally speaks, Kurt is startled. He can’t believe Blaine is asking for the details. He looks uncomfortable as hell- and still watches him with that unnervingly intense expression- but he asks, as if they’re just two ordinary friends chatting over coffee about their boring jobs. Kurt feels an inexplicable rush of relief.  
  
“It’s a threesome, me and another guy from Cheerios.”  
  
“And who’s the…customer?”  
  
“He’s a client Blaine; I’m not exactly standing on a street corner here.” Kurt doubts it will make much of a difference to Blaine, but to him it’s everything. He’s in this line of work by choice, not necessity and using the word ‘customer’ makes it sound like a cheap transaction. “His name’s Victor, and he’s great. He was my first client.”  
  
“Then do me a favor and never point him out in a crowd to me,” Blaine mutters and when Kurt flinches his fierce scowl melts into a grimace of apology. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that, go on, Kurt.”  
  
“He really is great Blaine. He’s like my friend,” Kurt muses, nodding his head. Blaine looks like he wants to argue this but he never gets the chance to. They both jump as Kurt’s phone starts ringing incessantly and Kurt curses Sue’s bad timing.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
_“It’s all arranged. You’ll be working with Brian.”_  
  
“Who’s Brian?”  
  
_“He’s new. I poached him from Figgen’s agency last week, offered him a higher class of clientele. He’s flying off the shelves if you know what I mean. Anyway the room is booked from seven so the two of you can get to know each other. It’s the hotel on the same road as-”_  
  
“Victor’s office.” Kurt finishes for her. “I know where it is.”  
  
_“Of course you do. Victor will be there at eight. Be on time. Don’t embarrass me Porcelain or I will drown both your parents in their sleep.”_  
  
When Sue hangs up Kurt turns back to Blaine expectantly, he finds his friend clenching his coffee cup with both hands. He hadn’t failed to notice the looks Blaine was unconsciously throwing him while he was on the phone; not exactly disgust but definitely disapproval and unease, something else that looked a lot like pain too.  
  
“Do you wanna go and look at more suits?” Kurt asks with far too much cheerfulness, anything to try and shun the awkwardness that surrounds them; it’s never been like this with Blaine, not even when they’d first met as two nervous and inept eighteen-year-olds away from their parents for the first time. It’s unnerving to say the least.  
  
Blaine shakes his head before standing up abruptly, causing his chair to crash onto the floor. Around them people turn to stare.  
  
“Kurt, how can you?!” Blaine’s voice is sharp and desperate sounding and it rings through the shop like a gun shot. He tappers off and then looks around them at all the curious eyes watching and back to Kurt again who is frozen in his seat, spine stiff and straight, his eyes staring somewhere past Blaine as he waits for whatever comes next. Blaine takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He rights his toppled chair, and he does it all without once looking at Kurt again.  
  
“I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow okay. I’m really sorry I just... I need to go right now.”  
  
Kurt of course can do nothing but watch him walk away.  
They seem to be doing that a lot these days.  


*********

  
Kurt’s stressful morning with Blaine is still playing on his mind when he arrives at the hotel for his appointment later that evening, but he manages to put it aside so that he can focus on the job at hand.  
  
Before he can even knock on the door, it flies open and he’s greeted with who he can only presume is Brian. He looks not too much older than Ethan but Kurt reckons it’s likely that he’s more his own age; Sue would only send someone with plenty of experience on an assignment like the one they’re on.  
  
Kurt can tell he’s English from his accent and he’s rather impressed with his skin the first time he sees it. He’s darker than Kurt for sure, but he has got that fair flawless complexion that some people just seem to come by naturally and don’t have to apply a single cream or lotion to upkeep.  
  
He’s clean shaven-which admittedly doesn’t help him look any older- and his dark blond hair has a slight wave to it and hangs to his shoulders. It’s the eyes that make Kurt pause though. They are a bright clear blue that flirt with shadows until they almost look grey. They are by far the admittedly handsome man’s best feature.  
  
Kurt understands why Sue picked him for a client as important as Victor; they are going to make a pretty picture side by side.  
  
“So, Victor… what’s he like?” Brian asks a few minutes later as they share a bottle of wine. Kurt wonders briefly why he chose the name Brian but isn’t curious enough to ask. Some escorts like to go for simple common names like Jake or Brian rather than the spectacular like Porcelain; all the better to blend in.  
  
How to describe Victor? Kurt had never really thought about it before but as he warms to the subject he realizes there is a lot he likes about the man. “In his forties, attractive, clever, athletic, and so kind. He’s a doctor, and absolutely brilliant. He’s writing a book right now that you should ask him about. He’s really polite. Oh! And he always smells great which is definitely not a guarantee in this business.”  
  
“I actually meant is he a top or a bottom.” Brian clarifies with an amused superior smile, reminding Kurt somewhat of Sue for a moment.  
  
“Oh,” he blushes, feeling quite inexperienced all of a sudden. Of course that’s what Brian had meant. With all of Blaine’s talk of weddings and romance Kurt is going soft. He should have known that Brian would only be thinking about Victor in terms of sex.  
  
“So what’s he into?” Brian asks, leaning closer with a conspiring grin on his beautiful face. Despite the superior smile of earlier he appears to want to put Kurt at ease. “Are we naughty school boys? Doctor and patient? Dirty priest and sweet, innocent chorister?”  
  
Kurt chuckles into his wine glass as Brian folds his hands as if in prayer and bats his long golden eyelashes at him.  
  
“Well as far as I know this is his first threesome so probably just the generic stuff.” Kurt muses. “Which is really too bad because I think we’d both make fabulous choir boys, wouldn’t we?”  
  
“Wouldn’t we just,” Brian agrees in that polished accent of his and Kurt has to admit his knees feel a bit weak. “So a bit of oral, bit of anal?”  
  
“Holiday Inn porn” Kurt agrees, and both of them to laugh. It’s a common term in the industry for the basics.  
  
“It’s all a bit dull though, isn’t it? I wouldn’t mind indulging in a little creativity.” Brian muses aloud, gesturing with his hands so that a little liquid sloshes over the brim of his wine glass.  
  
“Like what?” Kurt asks, curious.  
  
“How about good cop/bad cop?” Kurt raises his eyebrows dubiously; he really can’t see Victor going for that. He thinks it over as Brian pours himself more wine. Kurt covers his own glass with his hand as Brian goes to top him off. Red wine goes straight to his head and one glass is enough when he’s working. Brian tilts his head slightly as he regards him, a soft smirk on his face.  
  
“Ah, Porcelain. You’re still a little angel aren’t you?” Brian muses quietly and Kurt bristles. Angels are what the worst of the jaded call the newbies, those tarnished street angels who still think in the back of their minds that if they keep their hopes up and their dreams big that the darker side of their world won’t suck them in and tear off their wings.  
  
He supposes he did come in that way, and while it’s true he hasn’t gotten as jaded as Jake and he does in fact plan on doing other things someday (though what he has no idea) Kurt is far from naive or idealistic. He smarts beneath Brian’s smirk because seriously, he’s the best Cheerios has. Who does this guy think he is to come in on his first day and call _him_ an angel?  
  
At the disdainful look Kurt tosses him Brian only smiles wryly.  
  
“I meant no offense. It’s interesting meeting an escort as lauded as the great Porcelain Ward, who talks about his clients as if they were lovers sharing sweet kisses rather than dubious transactions; all of it cheerfully sober. You talk as if Victor actually cares about you.”  
  
“Is that so hard to believe?” Kurt asks, and he expects Brian to have some cynical retort. He’s ready for it but instead Brian nods, eyeing him appraisingly before he shrugs.  
  
“I know I’m a terrible cynic. Don’t listen to me.” Brian smiles genuinely before raising his own glass and taking a long swallow. Then he checks his watch and sighs. “Come on, move your arse. He’ll be here in fifty minutes.”  
  
As the pair of them get ready for Victor’s imminent arrival something occurs to Kurt; he’s having fun. Picking out underwear, having a drink, engaging in mindless chatter; it reminds him of getting ready to go out and hit the clubs with Blaine when they were in school. It’s nice. You know, what normal guys do.  
  
“Forgot to ask, do you wax or shave your pubes?” Brian sticks his head around the bathroom door as Kurt is finishing moisturizing his chest.  
  
“Wax,” Kurt answers, confused.  
  
“Good, I get really bad stubble rash. I can’t stand the chafing.” Okay, so maybe not exactly what normal guys do.  
  
As the time of Victor’s arrival gets closer Kurt finds himself becoming a little uneasy, and all sorts of thoughts start flooding his mind. He can’t help but wonder if the reason Victor wants this threesome is because he has done something wrong. Kurt has always been pretty much a one man show, and Victor has always been just his, and now here is this beautiful man who looks like an angel with a voice that makes him go a little weak in the knees. Victor has never even mentioned a threesome before! Kurt takes a little comfort in the fact that at least Victor wants him involved.  
  
At least he thinks he does, Sue never said either way.  
  
“Porcelain, are you okay?” Brian asks, noticing that Kurt has gone quiet.  
  
“This… this hasn’t happened before.” Kurt admits it aloud and Brian nods.  
  
“I thought for sure you’d have done a threesome by now. I promise it will be okay. Just follow my lead,” Brain says soothingly laying a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. He has mistaken Kurt’s meaning.  
  
“No. I have, really. I’m not scared” Kurt insists; he has done dozens of threesomes since he joined cheerios and even a few before. “I’m just used to it only being the two of us. Victor and I, I mean”  
  
“Ah. I see.” And Kurt doesn’t know why it’s so embarrassing that Brian does. “It’ll be fine,” Brian mercifully doesn’t comment on his feelings about victor. “This is all in a day’s work for us isn’t it?”  
  
To Kurt’s surprise, Brian slips his hand around his neck and pulls him into a sensual kiss. One he gladly reciprocates. Brian turns out to be an amazing kisser and Kurt already finds him attractive so it doesn’t really take much to get him in the mood – getting himself a bit more of _this_ can’t be a bad thing. He’s a bit breathless when their lips part.  
  
“How are you real? Where were you back when I was sixteen fantasizing about Jude Law?” He asks and Brian laughs, loud and full.  
  
“I was seventeen, hitting on all the American boys who couldn’t resist my accent” he informs Kurt with a cheeky wink.  
  
Not to be outdone, Kurt grabs him by the bicep and pulls him back against him, this time as the kiss heats Kurt slips his hand between them and presses it against Brian’s erection, palming him through his underwear gently.  
  
“Funny. I had you pegged as the type of kid who hid dirty magazines under his bed and tried to pretend he liked girls,” he teases and Brian’s gasp turns into breathy laughter.  
  
When there’s a knock Kurt answers the door in his underwear, unsurprised to see Victor standing there, smiling kindly, and he tries to convince himself that this is just like any other appointment they’ve had together.  
  
“Hey,” the doctor warmly, kissing Kurt’s lips before introducing himself to Brian and heading for the shower. Kurt notices the way Victor’s eyes darken with lust when he sees Brian reclining on the bed, and also the way Brian nods appreciatively as Victor heads to the bathroom. He is not sure whether he likes that or not.  
  
The pair of them sit in awkward silence as Victor showers, straightening up immediately when they hear the flow stop and a few minutes later Victor emerges from the bathroom.  
  
Kurt loves Victor like this; his hair damp and his body glistening from the shower. He and Brian both stand up, each taking one of Victor’s hands and pulling him onto the bed, wasting no time as they latch onto opposite sides of his neck, sucking lightly so as to not leave a mark before starting their descent down his chest.  
  
The key thing to remember when doing a threesome with another escort is teamwork; it’s no good trying to be the star player and outdo the other. Victor groans loudly as they each take a nipple into their mouths. There are of course clear benefits to a threesome.  
  
Kurt and Brian’s heads reach lower and lower until they reach their destination; they lock eyes, grinning as they each start licking his cock in tandem for double the pleasure. Kurt catches Victor’s gaze and sees him looking down at them both with a look of pure lust, and he pulls Brian into a messy kiss; he can taste Victor on him and knows that Brian can taste Victor on him too. This, Kurt thinks, is hot. Blaine seriously does not know what he misses out on.

  
**********

  
  
“You’re quite the athlete.” Brian praises breathlessly as the three of them collapse on the bed, completely sated.  
  
“You’re pretty flexible yourself. Color me impressed,” Kurt responds a satisfied little grin on his face.  
  
“Thanks. I tell my mother it’s due to yoga. A least I would if I had a mother.” Brian quips, a little smile of his own on his face. They both turn around as Victor laughs, almost to himself.  
  
“What?” Kurt asks as he chuckles away.  
  
“You two, debriefing. I suppose if you put two nurses or two teachers or whatever in a room together, they’re gonna talk about work.”  
  
“Will wonders never cease? He put us right up there with the caring professions” Brian mocks with a smirk.  
  
“I do though,” Victor insists. “Porcelain knows what I’m talking about. You just don’t realize it. People in general don’t realize it. People like me…..you guys do us more good than any marriage counselor or focus group.”  
  
“Ah, another member of frigid wives anonymous. So I’m curious. How many of us do you need to screw before it fixes your marriage?” Brian asks, a sardonic lift to his brow. Kurt inhales sharply at the thinly veiled insult but Victor doesn’t seem to have taken offense.  
  
“I finally finished that book you gave me.” Victor says ignoring Brian now as he turns back to face Kurt.  
  
“And?” Kurt smiles.  
  
“392 pages of misery, in the world’s smallest typeface. But beautiful, painfully so.” He looks directly at Kurt as he says his second sentence, and he knows Victor is no longer talking about just the book. “I cried like a little girl.”  
  
Next to Kurt Brian makes a quiet sound; a snort maybe.  
  
“What time is it? I should be getting home.” Victor sighs dejectedly.  
  
“It’s almost nine o’clock.” Brian informs him as he looks at the hotel clock. “About that time the wife starts to wonder where you are.”  
  
“Is that all?” Victor’s eyebrows rise in surprise; again he ignores Brian’s snide remarks. “I didn’t last long.”  
  
“Oh don’t worry, I can vouch for your stamina,” Kurt teases, kissing his chest. “But a job shared is usually a job halved.”  
  
“So basically that means the pair of you do half the work for double the money?” Victor asks with a smile.  
  
“Porcelain, I do believe we’re being audited.” Brian says in jest.  
  
“No! Of course not” Victor laughs at the scandalized look on Brian’s face before leaning over to kiss his lips. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”  
  
Kurt tries to squash the jealousy welling up inside him as Victor turns back to him. “And thank you especially.”  
  
He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Yes he’s competitive, but he knows how to share when it comes to sex. At least he used to. Now...  
  
He remembers Alex and how he’d practically begged Sue not to give him to Ethan and now this. And on the other hand there are clients Kurt couldn’t care less who else fucks them and when. What is so special about Victor, or Alex for that matter? There’s the fact that Kurt likes them on a personal level, but so what? Just because Victor enjoys Brian’s body doesn’t mean he likes Kurt any less. That’s the beauty of sex, what makes monogamy so damn irrational. Good god he’s becoming almost as bad as Blaine, all clingy and possessive.  
  
“You’re welcome. The pleasure was half mine,” Kurt replies as he curls up next to Brian.  
  
After Victor leaves Brian and Kurt start the cleanup process in virtual silence. They shower, dispose of used condoms and strip the soiled sheets from the bed to leave for the housekeeping staff to collect.  
  
“That was fun.” Kurt breaks the silence as they get back into their designer suits. And then he does something unexpected. “Would you….like to hang out sometime?”  
  
Brian pauses and then turns to Kurt with what is beginning to become a very familiar sardonic lift of the brow. “Does it involve fucking?”  
  
“No, Jesus, Brian. You’re only 27 and you’re as cynical as Eeyore.” Despite this Kurt really likes Brian. He’s fun, he’s talented and yes, a little bitchy sometimes but so is Kurt. They seem to have a lot in common but more importantly there is a small part of Kurt that sees the underlining sadness in Brian’s eyes.  
  
He hides it well with his veneer of sophistication and sarcasm but Kurt sees it nonetheless and he understands it. This job can be a prison, a private hell even, if you let it and Kurt just wants to show him that it doesn’t have to be.  
  
“We can’t all be angels, Porcelain.” Brian seems to have read his mind.  
  
“Insult me all you like but the invitation still stands. How about it?”  
  
“Does it involve eating dairy free/fat free ice cream and listening to Judy Garland records?” Brian asks and seeing the way Kurt’s eyes widen he laughs. “And that my friend is the kind of sixteen-year-old I had you pegged as.”  
  
“Guilty as charged.” Kurt grins and Brian grins back at him. Brain stares at him a moment, his smile slipping, and Kurt knows he is weighing something heavy in his mind.  
  
“I don’t know why I’m doing this. What’s your number?” Brian finally relents with a sigh and gets out his phone before looking back at Kurt. “In fact what’s your name? Because if it’s Porcelain then I’m sorry mate but your mum needs a smacking.”  
  
Kurt hesitates. None of the other Cheerios know his real name apart from Sue (it’s a sure fire way to get someone sending your loved ones your web ID in a jealous rage) but if they’re going to become friends Brian can’t keep calling him Porcelain either. So for the second time Kurt takes a chance on a stranger.  
  
“Kurt. What’s yours?”  
  
Brian smiles and it looks both pained and oddly triumphant. “Brain. But what’s in a name anyway?”  
  
“Aren’t you at all worried that your family or friends will see your name listed on the website?” Kurt asks, because yeah Brian is a pretty common name but still it’s a ballsy move.  
  
“Kurt, I left the mates I had back in England and believe me, none of them are looking for Brian Holt and they wouldn’t care if they found my name tattooed on their arse. ”  
  
“What about your family?”  
  
“I have no family. Never knew my father and my mother was a better junkie than she was a whore and died of an overdose before the HIV could help her along.” Though Brian’s tone is similar to one a person might use to comment on an interesting plot they read in a book or a scene they saw in a movie, Kurt catches the tension lines around his mouth and the subtle way his body stiffens as he discusses what is obviously a very painful past.  
  
“You don’t have anyone? Not a single person that loves you and might wonder?” Kurt is just beginning to realize how self-focused he can be sometimes. For all of the self-isolation he has put himself through he has never been like Brian without a single person to turn to.  
  
“Look at you. You want to adopt me it’s all over your face.” Brian laughs. “You need someone to save you from yourself. The world is a really ugly place darling, and it’s full of nasty people. Including me.”  
  
“And someone needs to yank the stick out of your ass, because the world is also full of some of fantastic things; including me and Judy Garland.”  
  
Kurt packs up the last of his things as Brian leaves before heading to the door himself. He’s just grabbing his phone as it starts ringing.  
  
“Hello?” He asks, wondering who would be calling him at this time of day if not Sue.  
  
_“Did you seriously put yourself in the same category as Judy?”_  
  
Kurt opens the hotel door to see Brian standing there, resting coolly against the door frame and grinning widely.  
  
Instead of heading home Kurt ends up showing Brian his favorite spot in all of New York, a solitary bench in the middle of Central Park, Belvedere Castle on the other side rising like something out of a fairy tale from the rock and brush. It’s kind of a silly whimsical thing but Kurt has liked coming here since his first few days in New York because it feels like a place where wishes might be granted by fairy god mothers and falling stars. Brian’s lucky that he has shown it to him Kurt decides as they sit eating their take out shrimp and rice with chopsticks.  
  
“Best present a client ever gave you?” Kurt asks as they get to know each other.  
  
“A mini convertible.”  
  
“Nice.” Kurt nods.  
  
“Yeah, shame I totaled it after three weeks. I’ve always been a bit of a speed freak. What about you?”  
  
“Well I legitimately have a diamond tiara. I’ve stored it at the bank because I’d have a hard time explaining it to my friends if they ever saw it, but I’d have to say the best gift I ever got from a client was a trip to Cannes for the film festival. We stayed on his yacht and took a helicopter ride around the Riviera.”  
  
“Sue’s right, you really _do_ get better clients here,” Brian observes, clearly impressed. “Okay, worst present a client ever gave you?”  
  
“A home enema kit.” Kurt answers him dryly, and they both chuckle. When their laughter subsides Kurt checks his phone for the umpteenth time that evening, opening and closing it just to make sure it’s working; no missed calls, no voicemail, no text messages.  
  
“Just because it’s not ringing doesn’t mean it’s broken.” Brian says quietly. “Boyfriend?”  
  
“Best friend. He’s not taking it brilliantly, the whole ‘I’m actually a prostitute’ thing.”  
  
“Wait, you’re telling me you’re not even screwing this guy and you told him?”  
  
“Yeah. He’s my best friend and he deserved to know. The secrecy was tearing apart our friendship. I had to do it.”  
  
“That was brave of you. You’re too perfect, Kurt” Brian muses, sucking the sauce from his chopsticks. “You do a good bitch routine but you’re really just a marshmallow inside aren’t you?”  
  
“Says the guy who resisted me for all of thirty seconds.” Kurt smiles, poking Brian playfully with a chopstick.  
  
“I like to pretend there’s hope for me. It’s a fault of mine,” Brian replies with a wink and then they are laughing again.  
  
After that evening Kurt ends up seeing Brian almost every day, and he’s amazed at how quickly they bond. Kurt’s self-aware enough to know he really needs it since Blaine is still keeping his distance. Since starting college he has never made a friend who is just his, had nothing to do with Blaine or their wider friendship group. With Brian he can be totally at ease. He can talk about men, sex, and work freely and candidly because to them they’re all the same thing. There’s no judgment, no disappointment, and best of all no barely covered up breaking heart.

 

***********

 

That same week Sue wants to update the website. That means new video clips, new photo spreads, and usually a full day of studio work that Kurt finds tedious and exacting. The camera crewmen are like brothers to him and they’re fun, but not exactly the most sexually inspiring at this point so usually he’s bored.  
  
Finding someone he’s not only sexually compatible with but also rather visually stunning next to is no small boon and Sue takes advantage of it. He and Brian are paired together for a number of scenes and as it turns out, Brian is actually a pretty good photographer. He convinces Sue to let him do a shoot with Kurt and she readily agrees once he shows her some of the shots he did for Figgen’s.  
  
And that’s how Kurt finds himself on a bed, naked with Brian shirtless and fiddling with a large black camera.  
  
“Should I smile?” He asks uncertainly and Brian grins.  
  
It’s funny to Brian how quickly people’s confident facades will crumble when put beneath the camera’s eye. It seems to him that even the strongest people cannot fully ignore their fear that the lens will focus on all of the blemishes they try so hard to hide. Kurt is beautiful, strong, and confident in a way that fascinates Brian but Brian knows his confidence is as much a shield as the name he uses for business.  
  
A beautiful lie, but a lie nonetheless.  
  
“I don’t know should you?” Brian asks, busy focusing the lens. “Just don’t think about it. Do whatever comes natural.”  
  
“Somehow I don’t think that’s what Sue had in mind. She usually thinks more along the lines of me splayed out over the table with a dildo up my ass or something.” Kurt replies with a sneer, fluffing the satin pillows on the bed before leaning back against them. He sucks in a breath and lets it out in a nervous whoosh.  
  
And there, that’s the Kurt that’s real, the one that Brian wants to capture. He raises the camera and quickly snaps a shot and Kurt glares at him.  
  
“I wasn’t ready.”  
  
“Yes you were,” Brian disagrees with a cheeky grin, snapping a few more quick shots of Kurt’s haughty glare. “You were you, and you’re incredibly sexy. It’s not the clothes or those toys you’re going to use on yourself. Those are just props.”  
  
“You’re awfully philosophical for a prostitute Brian you know that?” Kurt asks somewhat dryly and Brian’s grin widens as he focuses on the clean lines of Kurt’s profile, the way his elbows dig into the mattress as he leans against the headboard, the way his hands wrap under his right leg propping it up. He’s naked, but his posture shields rather than displays his assets and Brian likes the innocence of it all.  
  
Isn’t it strange? He knows firsthand just how un-innocent Kurt is, but with one click of a camera a body can be young, supple, beautiful and virtuous…everything they long to be in real time but can’t seem to capture for themselves.  
  
“Oh yes. I pride myself on my ability to wax poetic while I service. I consider it part of my charm,” he quips and wins a bark of laughter from Kurt.  
  
And there! Brian snaps the shot.  
That’s Kurt at his best, his most alluring. He’ll want to keep this moment.

  
  
*********

  
  
Kurt misses Blaine. He hates himself a little, because he knows that Blaine’s pain is his fault, but he doesn’t know what to do to make it all right. He could quit but what would that solve? He’d be adrift again, out of a job he loves and Blaine will marry Jeremiah and Kurt will always be his best friend sure but his profession will still lie between them like something dirty.  
  
It might be selfish, it might even be impossible but he needs Blaine to really accept who he is. He just does. If Blaine can do that maybe Kurt then will really believe that he’s not locked in, that he can shed the feathers he has been wearing and grow a new coat. Maybe then Kurt can fly without fear of being shot down.  
  
If your best friend can’t accept you then who else is going to?  
  
Having a friend in Cheerios also means that Kurt’s got someone to come with him when he goes for his monthly STD test; one of the many things Sue insists on and the worst part of escorting. He’s used to it by now and has been to the clinic so often that he knows the first name of everyone who works there, and knows the life history of most of the clinical staff; Kurt gets very chatty at his appointments, anything to distract himself from what they’re doing down there. They all know what Kurt does, and if they didn’t they’d soon figure it out by the sheer number of tests that he has had.  
  
“I don’t believe you, I go in there to get my cock scraped-” Kurt is exclaiming as he and Brian leave the clinic.  
  
“Oh god, don’t say scraped!” Brian buts in.  
  
“-and you come out with an actual party bag!” Kurt continues as if Brian hasn’t spoken.  
  
“Not much of a party bag though is it? No fairy cake, no party hats just balloons!” he jokes, grabbing a handful of condoms from the plastic carrier bag.  
  
“What were you a thief in another life? How did you even manage to grab all of that without someone noticing? Did you leave them with anything?” Kurt asks incredulously as they cross the street, skillfully dodging the central traffic. The stash that Brian’s grabbed could keep the pair of them going for weeks, and they’re escorts!  
  
“I’m a master thief Kurt, but I’m incredibly off my game. There was a lovely speculum and swab set I had my eye on but in the end I just took the condoms. And some pens.” Brian narrowly misses a sightseeing bus as his head is buried in his bag of treats.  
  
“You’re worse than my grandmother,” Kurt teases. “Her house is full of pens that she’s stolen from places.”  
  
“Your grandma is a wise woman. You can never have too many pens,” Brian tells Kurt with feigned wisdom, nudging Kurt with his elbow before hailing a cab. “Come on, let’s go before you make me take them back.”  
  
Later that day Kurt’s in the middle of his mid-afternoon nap when he’s rudely awakened by his phone ringing on the pillow next to him.  
  
“Hello?” Kurt answers sleepily, yawning widely and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.  
  
 _“I’ve got a new client for you. Twenty eight, works for an auction house, sounds like a dateline news reel. Quite junior now but good prospects, or so he tells me.”_ Sue says on the other end of the line.  
  
“I’m screwing him Sue not taking him home to meet my parents. When is it?”  
  
 _“Next Wednesday.”_  
  
“Well it depends on the time; Wednesday’s my regular with Victor.”  
  
 _“Actually Victor is with someone else this week.”_  
  
Now Kurt is wide awake, sitting bolt upright in his bed.  
“Who?” He asks, but somewhere inside he already knows.  
  
 _“Brian.”_ Bile rises in Kurt’s throat as he hears the name of the person who has become his confidante. “So can you do the auctioneer or not?”  
  
“Not,” he answers tersely. And he doesn’t care if it makes Sue angry or not.  
  
 _“Alright Porcelain. Call me when you’re done with your desperate house wife phase. It’s boring. News flash you’re a prostitute not a virgin bride and your man wants a little nookie somewhere else. Deal with it.”_  
  
As Sue hangs up Kurt stares at the phone for a moment, before throwing it across the bed and burying his head in the pillow as his emotions do a riotous dance.  
  
The end of the affair was written from the beginning. Victor is a married man who pays for sex, Kurt is the whore who gladly provides it. At some point Victor’s tastes were bound to change.  
  
So why does it hurt so damn much? It makes absolutely no sense considering Kurt doesn’t like monogamy anyway and he’s the first one to defend the idea that love and sex don’t have to have anything to do with each other. So what if Victor is his oldest client, someone he’d thought was a friend? He’s a prostitute! It’s not like Victor should have broken up with him first or something.  
  
But Brian. He doesn’t understand how Brian could do this to him; he knows how much Victor has come to mean to Kurt. He was one of the few clients whom Kurt could really trust, and when he was with him he always felt completely safe. Trust and safety are two of the most important factors in this industry and now Brain has taken them from him. Like Sue said, Brian’s flying off the shelves and is currently getting more work than even Kurt is. He could have said no and then nothing between Victor and Kurt would ever have to change, but he went and did it anyway.  
  
Kurt knows that’s not fair. That if not Brian, then Victor would have found someone else eventually but the fact that it’s Brian who he has trusted hurts so much that he doesn’t care.  
  
Kurt spends the rest of the day moping, not bothering to dress again, just laying around and contemplating. It’s not a matter of whether he can forgive him, forgive is the wrong word; this is business after all. But things between him and Brian will never be the same again; every time Kurt sees Brian he’ll remember what the other man took from him.  
  
At this point Kurt doesn’t know who he needs more, Victor or Brian. Now who can he call when he’s had a bad day at work?  
  
And then it dawns on Kurt that who he misses most of all is Blaine. Blaine would never have done something like that to him.  
  
Kurt is sitting in his pajamas eating cookies straight from the box on the kitchen floor, like those annoying girls in chick flicks that he abhors so much. He scrolls through his phone until he comes to Brian’s name. His finger hesitates momentarily before he takes the plunge and hits the delete button, and then just like that his number is gone. His fingers idly play with his phone until he comes to his most dialed number; he presses call.  
  
“Hi,” he whispers when he hears Blaine’s familiar voice. It feels like months since he spoke to him and they spoke to each other just that morning. No. Not really. No not really and that’s the problem.  
  
 _“Hey,”_ Blaine returns after a momentary pause.  
  
“How are you?” Kurt asks tentatively.  
  
 _“Good. You?”_ They sound like strangers at an alumni reunion.  
  
“I’m great.” Kurt answers softly “Actually I’m lying again, I’m absolutely shit.” The last few words come out as more of a sob and before he knows it there are tears running down his face. “You know before all of this I don’t think I cried around you once and now every time I talk to you I’m breaking into tears. What is this?” Kurt can somehow laugh at himself even though tears are streaming down his face.  
  
“ _Whoa whoa, what’s the matter?_ ” Blaine instantly sets to soothe, a hint of urgency in his voice. Kurt shakes his head and smiles even though Blaine can’t see. He’s such a honey bee.  
  
Kurt wants to tell him everything; about losing Victor to someone he’d grown so close to, about losing two people whom he’d grown to trust. But Blaine wouldn’t understand and he has made it plain he can’t see Kurt’s clients as anything but sleazy monsters who take advantage of him. Kurt is sure Blaine doesn’t want to hear about how they can be friends, and how much the betrayal of a friend hurts.  
  
But Blaine is his best friend. He has been consistent and true through everything- the cheating and the lies- and he’s still here even though he hates knowing that Kurt is an escort. But he needs more than that. Kurt needs Blaine not just to see who he is, but to really see; to want to see.  
  
“I lent something special to a friend and I don’t think I’m going to get it back,” Kurt sniffs, rubbing his eyes furiously.  
  
 _“Is that it? God I wish I had your problems.”_ Kurt hears him attempt a chuckle.  
  
“Will you come over?” Kurt asks suddenly; he doesn’t care if Blaine can’t look him in the eye yet, at least he’ll have him near.  
  
Blaine doesn’t answer, and Kurt can only tell that he’s still there by the sound of his breathing. He doesn’t know who else to turn to if Blaine says no. For one agonizing minute Kurt thinks that he is.  
  
 _“Of course I will,”_ Blaine finally answers. As Blaine hangs up his tears increase. Whether over the hurt or his relief Kurt’s not sure.  
  
As promised Blaine arrives only twenty minutes later, and judging by the box in his hand he has stopped at Kurt’s favorite (guilty pleasure) bakery on his way over.  
  
Kurt takes the box, sets it aside and throws himself into a hug that is everything he hadn’t even realized he has been craving. Blaine holds him tight and warm and just like that Kurt realizes that Blaine is not the only one who is going to have to fight to move on.  
  
“Thank you for coming” he murmurs into Blaine’s shoulder and Blaine’s arms only tighten around him.  
  
Kurt needs to tread carefully. He is still very much in love with Blaine Anderson and this can only end terribly.  
  
“You looked good in that suit at the wedding shop,” Blaine is telling Kurt a few minutes later as he grabs some plates. “I can’t remember if I ever said that. Seriously stunning Kurt.”  
  
“Did you ever pick a suit?” Kurt asks with feigned nonchalance, embarrassed by his earlier outburst.  
  
“Yes. I went back and I got that one you picked out…the last one. ” Blaine answers as they walk into the living room and sit on the couch.  
  
Kurt can’t help but beam. He’d hoped Blaine would pick that one. It really is perfect for him and Blaine deserves beautiful things.  
  
“I’m glad. I was worried you’d go with that hideous beige.”  
  
“I have that one on back order for the reception. I plan on rocking out to some 80’s disco.” They both laugh at this, slowly sinking into the cushions and settling in close to each other.  
  
“You know I’ve missed you,” Kurt tells him seriously. “More than I thought I ever would.”  
  
“I’ve missed you too.” Blaine admits smiling a bit sadly. And that’s it, the last minute that Kurt can tip toe around waiting for Blaine to either decide that he accepts Kurt or he doesn’t.  
  
“Blaine we’ve got to stop this. We go out, we have dinner, we go running, and watch bad TV together. Hell we used to sleep together! We’ve shared everything in our lives. It’s what friends do. It’s why you were so upset when I didn’t share with you, but now I have and we can’t even talk anymore. Am I ever going to be able to talk to you about this?”  
  
“You know honestly? I’m not sure. Sometimes I think so. I mean I talk to you about work so it should work both ways. Right?” Blaine responds his face is unreadable. “But that’s easy to say. It’s hard enough to be here with you right now and know what you’ve done all day and that you don’t just think there’s no way out. No you, Kurt, actually think that this is the best you can do, that this is a good thing, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how I am supposed to believe that. I don’t. Kurt you could be just about anything. I’ve known it since the day I met you. I turned and looked at you and I just knew that you were special and that if I spent the rest of my life just trying to be near you it wouldn’t be wasted.”  
  
Kurt’s heart is pounding and the way Blaine is looking at him is dangerous. Dangerous because they’ve done the smart thing and shut these doors. Suddenly all Kurt wants to do is lean forward and fling them open.  
  
“You’re buzzing at me again honey bee,” he murmurs and at Blaine’s questioning frown he says louder and more to the point. “You don’t need to be perfect for me Blaine, or know what to say all the time because you think you haven’t fulfilled some fantasy you had about us skipping off into the sunset when we were teenagers. You were eighteen. You turned and saw a cute boy and thought, ‘there goes my life’. You realize that is what we call youthful fantasies? We’re not in some teenage daydream anymore Blaine.”  
  
Blaine sighs heavily, as if he has resigned himself to the war draft or something equally depressing.  
  
“Okay….this is so difficult to get my head around, but I’m trying and I want to be okay with it but right now I’m not. It has changed how I see you and I just don’t want that. I’m sorry for hurting you that way, and I don’t want that between us. So maybe it isn’t the most brilliant plan, maybe it’s nuts but I figure the best I can do right now is learn how to deal. We just go on... be who we are, and eventually it’ll become almost….normal. It might take two weeks or it might take two years. Show me who you think you are and I won’t judge. And be patient with me when it’s hard. Sound fair?”  
  
“That sounds fair,” Kurt agrees, unable to believe his life or his luck, that seven years ago (nearly eight now) it was Blaine and not some other student he’d grabbed and asked for directions; and out of that he’d found someone so amazing. Blaine knows he is a prostitute and he is going to try and accept it, to accept Kurt for who he is no matter what he personally believes.  
  
You need to mark this step. You need to understand that the world is full of people like Kurt, doing things that boggle the mind, looking different, acting different; seeing things differently than their neighbor. If you’ve ever read a book, watched the news, or picked up a paper than you understand the simple beauty of what I will reiterate.  
  
Blaine does not understand or like what Kurt has chosen to be, but Blaine truly loves Kurt. Though he does not know it, though he secretly fears he is failing Kurt by not alerting his family, by not dragging him home to Burt and a team of psychiatrists he has chosen to do the one and only thing that will help Kurt. Accept him. This is the truest expression of love.  
  
Kurt is not being held prisoner, no one lured him into a life of misery and now jails him to a life he can’t escape. If Kurt is lost it is only because he himself does not want to see, and therefore it will have to be Kurt who finds himself. Kurt is strong, but even the strongest people need to rely on the strength of others at times. Every queen bee needs a worker bee or two.  
  
You may think Blaine’s acceptance is a simple thing but it is in fact all too rare in our world. In a world full of different colors, religions, and sexual identities that can’t seem to play nice it is certainly not a guarantee.  
  
Kurt and Blaine reach for each other’s hands in the same breath, and as their fingers intertwine Kurt relaxes back into the couch. They finish eating in silence.  
  
“I need to ask you something,” Blaine asks after a while. “It’s a favor; you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”  
  
“You’re not going to ask me to have sex with you and Jeremiah are you?!” Kurt asks in alarm.  
  
“What? No!” Blaine looks so comically stunned Kurt struggles to hold back his giggles. “What even possessed you to say that?!”  
  
“I had a nightmare about it once,” Kurt replies with a shrug, “and that’s not the worst thing I had a nightmare about back pre-confession.”  
  
“If I ever _did_ want to have sex with you then I’m sure as hell not going to pay for you, Kurt!” Blaine tells him and there’s no attempt to hide the disgust either in his voice or his eyes.  
  
“Okay...this is me being patient. I am now going to kindly point out what you just did wrong and you’re going avoid doing it ever again, okay?” Kurt’s voice lowers with anger and he slowly withdraws his hand away from Blaine’s. “Don’t say ‘did’ like that, like you can’t imagine ever wanting to touch someone like me, because call me vain but I think we both know I could get you to touch me real quick Mr. Anderson. I’m not something dirty, Blaine.”  
  
Blaine’s face crumples and for a moment he looks absolutely stricken.  
“You’re right. I didn’t intend to say it like that but...I guess I sort of did somewhere inside. I’m not doing very good at this.”  
  
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be good at learning your best friend is a prostitute.” Kurt takes his hand again. He understands this not being easy for Blaine, it shouldn’t be easy for anyone.  
  
“So,” Kurt continues. “If it’s not sex you want from me, what is it?”  
  
“Will you be my best man?”  
  
Blaine Anderson is a lethal weapon Kurt decides. He can do and say the most bone headed things and make Kurt want to hit him over the head with something heavy (he never does, unlike some boyfriends he could name) and the next minute he’s gazing at Kurt with all this sweetness and hope and Blainnessness....  
  
Kurt Hummel doesn’t know what the word above means, and it’s an offense to any spell check or dictionary, but he doesn’t care. He is becoming quite strange that way. First he’d felt uncharacteristically clingy and possessive and now he’s acting as silly as a pre-teen with a crush.  
  
“Blaine, that was pretty much a given.” Kurt reassures him, shifting closer until he’s resting against his shoulder. As long as Kurt is being silly inside his own head he can admit he loves the way Blaine smells and a liking to be wrapped up in it.  
“Will you be mine?”  
  
Why Kurt asks this he doesn’t know. The words are just there, ready to be said, but they don’t make much sense since he isn’t planning on getting married anytime in ever.  
  
“But…you’re not getting married….are you?!” Blaine asks fearfully. Clearly after learning your best friend is a hooker anything is possible.  
  
“Didn’t say that I was,” Kurt admits, smiling. “This is going to be really silly but I think...what I mean is you already are my best man. There was a time I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone like you. And then there you were, helping me find my way to ethics class.”  
  
And there went life.  
  
Blaine’s only response is to squeeze his hand and Kurt smiles against his shoulder.  
  
“But I swear to you Blaine, best friend or no, if I see that beige monstrosity anywhere near the reception I will set it on fire and I won’t wait until you’re not in it.”


	9. Someone you'd be lucky to have.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt takes a much needed vacation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I assume all of you have noted the non con warning, and while I can't reveal specific details without giving away the plot, I'd like to give a heads up that this chapter contains sequences that may be triggery to some readers. Also, I highly suggest pulling out the Moulin Rouge soundtrack if you have it and giving it a listen if the urge to play a certain duet should strike you. I know I did.

It’s not only restaurants and actors that worry about bad reviews. You might not know it but upmarket escorts are also subject to public opinion. And why not? After all they provide a service just as much as the plumbers and builders of this world, and if a person receives particularly good or bad workmanship they want to tell someone about it. Half of Kurt’s clients come to him after recommendations from their friends. Sadly for his clients there is no governing body for prostitution; they don’t get any license revoked for shoddy work.  
  
This is why Sue set up a feedback page for all her working girls and boys. It’s a good way for clients to give their honest opinions and give potential customers an idea on which escorts are going to give them mind blowing orgasms and which are going to give them nothing but the clap and rob them in their sleep.  
  
It’s the weekly meeting with Sue and Jake is showing off his brand new blackberry as he smirks his way through his review page. Kurt is pretending to be interested in Mike’s story about his new favorite client Tina, when he’s actually just pointedly refusing to even look at Brian who has done nothing but stare at him since he sat down. Ethan as usual is like a little puppy hanging off of Jake’s every word.  
  
“Listen to this,” the blond escort crows. “Jake is a gorgeous and sophisticated young man with a great body and even better technique.”  
  
“Are all your clients so easily pleased or just that one?” Kurt can’t resist asking sarcastically. Jake puts him on edge with his snootiness and arrogance. Kurt doesn’t mind a little self-confidence but he hates bullies.  
  
“Whore,” Jake snaps back at him.  
  
“How long did it take you to come up with that?”  
  
“That’s enough.” Sue barks, and both Jake and Kurt back off reluctantly. “I’m seeing a new boy at two and haven’t got the time or the patience for the pair of you. Speak now or forever hold your peace, Porcelain?”  
  
“Nothing to report.” Kurt answers idly, more interested in playing with the beads around his wrist than listening to what any of the other guys have to say. Still, he can’t help but notice the looks that Jake and Ethan are giving him, giggling conspiringly like a pair of prepubescent schoolgirls. “What are you two looking at?”  
  
“Nothing,” Ethan answers with feigned nonchalance, giving Jake a knowing look.  
  
“What is it?” Kurt reiterates, impatient with their games. Jake passes Kurt his Blackberry which Kurt finds is currently open onto his webpage.  
  
“You’ve got a new review,” Jake smirks victoriously.  
  
 _Porcelain has a fantastic body but sadly he has no idea what to do with it.  
No amount of poking or prodding on my part could persuade him to give even a hint that he was enjoying himself; the word frigid comes to mind.  
  
\- Gary Alvin Parker._  
  
  
Kurt stares at the words in shock. That’s not just a bad review, that’s a fucking awful review. This is the single most awful thing anyone could say about him. Guys come to Cheerios to escape frigid partners, not pay hundreds of dollars to sleep with them. Who the fuck is Gary Alvin Parker anyway? If Kurt had screwed someone with such a pretentious name he’d have remembered wouldn’t he?  
  
His gaze wanders between Jake, Ethan, Mike and they stick on Brian who is looking at him expectantly and waiting to gauge his reaction. There is nothing else Kurt can do other than smile sweetly and try to brush it off, as if he couldn’t care less. The rest of the meeting goes smoothly enough and Kurt quietly simmers and tries to ignore the others watching him.  
  
He’s the first one out of his chair and out the door at the meetings close but it appears that Brian has been prepared for just that because he’s right on Kurt’s heels. As Kurt exits out the front door Brian grabs his elbow and tries to halt him. Kurt whirls around and slaps his hand away.  
  
“Do not touch me Brian.”  
  
“Kurt I just want to talk to you,” the other man pleads.  
  
“About what? About the fact that you pretended to be my friend while you stole Victor from me?” Kurt retorts and Brian has the gall to laugh like he has said something funny.  
  
“You think I stole that asshole from you?” Brian scoffs disbelievingly. “Open your eyes angel, Victor was done with you and it had nothing to do with me. It was about Victor. It’s always about them. You think Victor gives a damn about you, me, his wife, or anybody else but himself?”  
  
“Save it, Brian!” Kurt furiously jabs his finger into the taller man’s chest. “You slither around going on about how bad the world is and how evil everyone is in it; for what? So you can act like a dick and get away with it? So we can all be as miserable as you are? Well I don’t buy it, there are good people out there and-”  
  
“And they aren’t hooking up with prostitutes behind their wives backs!” Brian pushes him back. “Poor Kurt, you thought we were friends and I’m just awful stealing your prince charming away. Get real Hummel, you’re smarter than this! Victor wants to fuck me now and I am letting him. So fucking what, Kurt? What difference does it make? He’ll be done with me in a month just like everyone else. Just like you!”  
  
Kurt flinches at the harsh accusation, he hates Brian for not getting it but he hates more that nevertheless there’s a ring of truth to his words. He wishes Brian would just go away and let him put this whole thing behind him but Brian won’t relent.  
  
“Quit acting like I stabbed you in the back when I’ve never pretended to give a shit about whatever romance you thought you were having with that asshole,” Brian demands. “I’ve never lied to you. You just don’t want to accept that I just might be as bad as I keep trying to tell you I am, because if you did you’d have to wake up and see just what kind of a person you are too.”  
  
“And just what kind of a person do you think I am, Brian?”  
  
“It’s not what I think you are, it’s what _you_ think you are isn’t it?” Brian looks at him so knowingly, like he and Kurt share a secret. “You feel like _nothing_ don’t you Kurt, and you’ve fought against it your whole life. Victor and all of the others can shower you with gifts, you can go on a thousand trips and imagine that it somehow makes you special but none of it changes the fact that you mean nothing to them and they mean nothing to you.”  
  
Not for the first time Kurt wonders just what it is that Brian has been through that makes him so cold and his eyes so old. His chest feels heavy, compressed, and his eyes burn as he struggles to come up with a reply.  
  
“Brian I understand that this life isn’t always ideal. I’m not stupid, I know not every prostitute works for someone like Sue, but that has nothing to do with me. Don’t act like you know me when you clearly don’t.”  
  
“I don’t? So you haven’t fought and clawed, and sold what you shouldn’t have to be worth something your whole life? You’re happy with what it has gotten you?” Brian scoffs. “Admit it angel, it’s not what you thought it was. All it has gotten you is more nothingness. Now you’re not even worth something to yourself.”  
  
The words assault Kurt like bullets. They are fists coming out of the dark to land solid punches that drive the breath out of his body. He has heard this opinion before, seen it reflected before in a hundred disapproving eyes but it has never before sounded so ugly, so terrible, so frighteningly close to the truth. All he can do is shake his head against it, flee the dark room with shadows that move and bar the door shut behind him.  
  
“That’s not true,” he insists but he doesn’t sound convincing even to himself.  
  
“Yes. Yes it is Kurt, you know it is.” Brian isn’t yelling, he doesn’t seem angry with Kurt at all, in fact he isn’t even looking at him anymore. “And you know what the worst part is? Those good people Kurt, the ones who try and rescue you and pull you out of the shit hole you wallow in; they can’t save you. It’s like quick sand, and you get in so deep that anyone good enough to get in and help starts sinking too. You can’t do a thing about it but watch them drowning and know that it was you who pulled them in. Are you prepared for that Kurt?”  
  
As Brian turns to look at him Kurt decides once and for all that he has the saddest eyes of anyone he knows. Brian is looking directly at Kurt now, blue eyes so hot and sharp they cut through him.  
  
Is that really what he has done? Kurt wonders.  
  
No. No, he decides.  
  
He doesn’t care what Brian thinks about him, he is absolutely not that messed up inside!  
  
But no matter how forcefully he protests it he can’t stop the fear niggling at him that maybe the other man is right, especially about dragging others into it. Has he dragged Blaine into something that he won’t be able to handle? Is Blaine going to get hurt or broken in some way that Kurt hasn’t counted on? No. They’ll be okay. He has to believe that.  
  
“I’m sorry Brian,” Kurt says slowly. “I’m sorry that someone you cared about bailed on you, I’m sorry they couldn’t cope, I’m sorry. You have no idea how much because it obviously did a number on you, but that isn’t me. And it isn’t Blaine either. I trusted you, and that didn’t mean anything to you so we’re not friends and you have no one to blame that on but yourself.”  
  
Kurt is walking away when Brian says his name. He doesn’t know why but he stops without turning around.  
  
“I said he was good remember? He didn’t bail on me. I just figured out that the guy on dry land only sinks so long as he’s trying to hold onto you.”

 

********

  
The rest of Kurt’s day passes without incident, and since it’s his night off and Blaine has work to do at home Kurt decides to have an early night and put both Brian and the bad review to the back of his mind. Brian is easy, Kurt’s still mad at him for breaking his trust and he really doesn’t want to think about all of the stuff he’d said.  
  
There’s a part of him that does feel bad. Even from the little Brian has said it’s obvious he has been through some pretty heavy stuff but that isn’t an excuse for betraying a friend. A lot of people go through hard stuff. Hell, Kurt had been through hard stuff.  
  
Forgetting the review turns out to be a lot harder.  
  
The truth is it really pisses him off; he’s a professional (despite what some of his recent actions may suggest) and he wants to do his job properly. If there was something he’d done wrong he’d much rather they say it to his face so he could try and fix it. He’s a whore for Christ’s sake, they’re pretty much made of stone (again, despite what his recent actions may suggest) and if clients think that they can’t handle criticism then they don’t know shit about the service they’re buying into.  
  
Kurt bangs around his apartment that night until he finally gives up on pretending at anything but irritation and calls it a night.  
  
He hasn't been asleep long when he’s rudely awoken by his phone. He tries to ignore it but clearly Sue isn’t going to take no for an answer as it starts ringing again only a moment later; so much for his night off.  
  
“Hello?” Kurt answers, still half asleep.  
  
 _"42, architect, nothing kinky. You interested?”_  
  
“It’s past midnight. I was asleep.”  
  
 _“That’s not a problem; it’s an in-call. You can stay right where you are.”_  
  
“I don’t take clients in the middle of the night, you know that,” Kurt chides gently.  
  
 _“Really? If I was in your position I don’t think I’d be turning down any work.”_  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kurt asks hesitantly, sitting up in bed.  
  
 _“You know how they say that all publicity is good publicity? They lied. No one’s called to book you since that review was posted a few days ago and all you have the coming week is two regulars. That’s not exactly the salary you’re used to living on, is it?”_  
  
“Fine!” Kurt snaps, hanging up the phone. Normally he doesn’t interrupt his sleep for anyone, and he’s really pissed off that Sue brought up that stupid review, but she’s probably right. Kurt’s current lifestyle can’t be supported with two appointments a week; he’ll barely make rent, especially once Sue takes her cut.  
  
He longs for the day when things have settled down and he can enjoy his work again. There’s a reason Porcelain Ward is the most sought after escort at Cheerios, and so much of that was because he enjoyed the work. It’s not a damn prison no matter what Brian thinks.  
So Kurt gets up and gets ready, determined to work and enjoy every second of it. He’s not frigged!  
  
“Hello?” he calls out as he answers his buzzer half an hour later, pulling on a robe as he goes.  
  
“Hi I’m Jason. I believe we have an appointment?”  
  
“Great, come on up,” Kurt instructs opening the door for him.  
  
“Hi,” Kurt smiles brightly as Jason sticks his head around the door a moment later. “Come on in.”  
  
“Thank you. Sorry I’m a little late I’ve had a terrible time finding somewhere to park.” Jason explains neutrally.  
  
“Yeah it gets busy around here sometimes but never mind, you’re here now.” Kurt’s happy enough to chat, it relaxes clients and after you’ve done this job for as long as he has you become a connoisseur of small talk.  
  
“Oh, sorry.” Jason fumbles in his pocket for a wad of folded bills as Kurt holds his hand out.  
  
“I was _actually_ going to take your coat but….we might as well get this out of the way.” Kurt laughs as he takes the cash and his jacket, even though he actually feels a little annoyed at the guys presumption. Not that he has any right to. They _are_ meeting in the dead of night to screw each other.  
  
“Sorry,” Jason says softly, his face flushing slightly. He’s not Kurt’s type- tall but on the heavier side with bright blond hair- but since when does he need to be physically attracted to someone to perform?  
  
“Just relax.” Kurt stands aside as he lets Jason walk into the living room to sit on the couch. “Can I get you a drink?”  
  
“No thank you, I’m fine. Where are you going?” The other man asks as Kurt heads into the bedroom. He looks unsettled now Kurt notes. Probably a first timer.  
  
“Just to make a call,” Kurt explains, half expecting that anyone who calls for a high class escort in the middle of the night should just know how these things work by now.  
  
“To who?” Jason asks in a strange tone.  
  
“To a friend.” It’s a standard answer if clients ever ask.  
  
“Why would you do that?”  
  
“Look it’s okay. I’m just going to check in with my boss and tell her you’re here. It’s a standard procedure,” Kurt reassures him, hoping to finally put him at ease. Jason seems oddly uptight and his hands are clenching.  
  
“Why?” He demands instead, voice only edgier.  
  
“It’s…just procedure, to keep us safe.” Kurt explains. What is this guy’s problem, why is this becoming such a big deal? As Kurt watches him he can’t help getting slightly nervous.  
  
“Us? You mean you, to keep _you_ safe.”  
  
“Yes, okay to keep _me_ safe. Just in case you turn out to be a mad axe murderer or something.” Kurt laughs awkwardly, trying his best to be light hearted when nothing about the situation strikes him as funny.  
  
“You’ve used that line before,” Jason points out, standing up from the couch. It’s then that Kurt realizes just how much bigger the other man is. Jason is heads taller and he’s definitely got a lot more muscle mass.  
  
“Of course not.” Kurt takes an involuntary step back.  
  
“Come over here,” Jason orders in an even voice.  
  
“I will, once I’ve made my call.” Kurt insists. He’s getting irritated now. He doesn’t appreciate being ordered around, and something about this guy just isn’t right. There’s no way he’s not checking in with Sue, he might even have her send one of her heavies to hang around and keep an eye on things.  
  
“I don’t want you to call anyone. I’ve paid for you, now come over here.”  
  
“If I don’t call the agency they’ll call me,” Kurt explains patiently, trying to keep his voice steady and not give away any of his anger. “Or Sue will just send her heavies around and we don’t want that.”  
  
“Did she tell you what I want? What I want to do to you?” Jason is looking at Kurt with nothing short of lust, but not the kind that Kurt likes. It feels like swimming in a pond, cold and slimy where it should be cool and refreshing.  
  
“Yeah she-” but Jason does not seem to care about Kurt’s response.  
  
“Good. Now please take your clothes off.” He takes a step forward and Kurt edges back nervously.  
  
“Listen I think-”  
  
“Take your clothes off now. You’re the whore and I’m the client and you _will_ do as I say.” Jason doesn’t raise his voice and his tone remains even, but he doesn’t need to shout. His calm actually unnerves Kurt all the more.  
  
Not all of Kurt’s clients are gentlemen like Victor or sweet like Alex. Kurt knows this, despite what Brian thinks, he’s not actually delusional. He knows this business isn’t ideal, knows it can have an extremely ugly side. He has even had small tastes of it before, has had clients shout and scream at him before; but always he has been able to handle it because they’ve been the ones to lose control while he’s the one thinking rationally.  
  
Kurt is not some damsel in distress, he doesn’t let people push him around and he has shown more than one idiot that whore or no he doesn’t take orders if he doesn’t want to.  
  
But this client is cold and calculating with something hard behind his eyes that frightens Kurt. He isn’t drunk or high and he isn’t just throwing a tantrum because he isn’t getting his way. It’s just that… that lust in his eyes, that stark look of hunger; Kurt suddenly finds it terrifying.  
  
“I think you should go.” He can’t let this guy touch him. He just knows that.  
  
“I can’t,” Jason says simply. “I’ve waited a long time for you. You do know you’ve been booked for months? You love it don’t you, making us want you and then making us wait. No. Porcelain, I can’t go now.”  
  
“That’s...sweet, knowing you’ve been thinking about me. But I really think you should go now. There’s been a bit of a mix up - I’m not even supposed to be working, it’s my night off.” He’ll say whatever he has to at this point. Kurt grabs the bills from the pocket of his robe and holds them at arm’s length towards him. “You of course will get a full refund.”  
  
“You don’t like me, do you?” Jason’s voice sends shivers down his spine. “Why is that? Do I repulse you? That isn’t very nice of you.”  
  
Nice? Kurt wants to throw this guy out of his apartment, but he’s stuck being _nice_ to him because he can’t afford any more bad reviews, and Sue will kill him if he’s less than absolutely adoring of a client right now.  
  
“Of course I like you, but I wasn’t prepared and I’m not at my best. I’m sure you want me at my best don’t you?” Kurt is amazed at his ability to sound sweet and cloying when his stomach is literally churning.  
  
“You look alright to me, such a pretty face. Would hate for something to happen to it.”  
  
Okay, with that remark the situation has escalated from unnerving to potentially dangerous and Kurt really needs to regain some control. It’s also the excuse he needs to drop the charade and just tell him to get the hell out.  
  
“I’m sorry sir. But you need to leave now.”  
  
Jason reaches for him and Kurt just reacts. He knows, he just knows, that letting Jason get a grip on him would be a terrible mistake. He steps back and sweeps the lamp off the end table, gratified to hear it smash loudly.  
  
“Do not touch me! Get out! I said go!” He shouts at the top of his voice. He wants the neighbors to hear and he wants Jason to know that the neighbors can hear.  
  
At first he fears that it isn’t enough, that Jason isn’t going to go anywhere, so he pushes the end table over and screams for him to get out one more time for good measure. Jason flinches at the loud crash and his eyes widen when it dawns on him that someone would surely have heard it. Then he strides past Kurt, his eyes full of rage as he snatches the cash from his hand.  
  
“I won’t forget this,” he warns and then he storms out and slams the door so hard it pops back open.  
  
Kurt watches him leave, smiling weakly at a neighbor who has unlocked his own door to see what all the commotion is. Once Jason’s around the corner Kurt closes the door hastily, putting the latch and the chain on, breathing heavily as he listens for footsteps.  
  
He stands looking through the peephole for several minutes but sees no one other than a Chinese deliveryman walk past. Kurt quickly turns the lights off and runs to the window so Jason won’t see him watching him. He searches the parking lot and sighs in relief when he spots the man. He watches him storm into his BMW, slamming the door shut before driving away at breakneck speed.  
  
After a while Kurt manages to convince himself that his crazy night visitor isn’t coming back and tears himself away from the window, checking his phone only to be surprised that Sue hasn’t tried to contact him. He flops down on his bed as his breathing and heart rate finally slow down, but sleep does not come; the adrenalin is keeping him wide awake.  
  
That was…terrifying.  
  
The job is dangerous. Kurt has always known that there is a possibility he might run into someone without the best intentions, in fact it’s a miracle he hasn’t run into one of the crazies before now, but the reality is so much harsher than he’d expected. He has no idea what that guy would have done if he’d let him get near him, if he was someone like Ethan who would never dream of turning a client away, or if things had played out differently even in the slightest detail and Jason had managed to subdue him before he could raise a commotion.  
  
Kurt closes his eyes and all he can see are Jason’s cold glittering eyes and he shudders.  
  
He gets out of bed quickly after that and pulls on some clothes. Before he leaves he calls for a taxi, because there’s no way in hell he’s walking anywhere in the dark by himself.  
  
***********************  
  
Kurt smiles at the familiar face of Blaine’s neighbor as she passes him in the hallway. He can hear loud music coming from his apartment despite it being half past midnight. Kurt has had a key to Blaine’s place since he first moved in (long before his boyfriend even) and when he’s not running out into the night in a wild panic to make confessions he remembers to put it in his pocket before he leaves.  
  
Kurt opens the door without knocking, which might be rude considering Blaine does live with Jeremiah, if Kurt wasn’t honestly worried that Blaine won’t hear him over his jam session. Besides, if Jeremiah were home, Blaine wouldn’t be playing on his keyboard and singing his heart out.  
  
Blaine might have decided to go into business like his father had always hoped but Kurt knows that he still keeps up with his music. It’s his wind down after busy days, his comfort after bad ones, and his pleasure every day. But it’s a small apartment, and Blaine being as polite as he is, is always mindful of Jeremiah who while appreciating his voice, finds it irritating to listen to Blaine play the same piece of music over and over again as he tries to nail it down. He saves his more intense jam sessions for when Jeremiah is not around.  
  
Kurt wanders into the bedroom to find Blaine standing near the window in front of his keyboard. There are sheets of music strewn all over the bed and the desk nearest the window and Blaine’s back is to him. He’s wearing his boxer bottoms and a white t-shirt and his hair is ungelled and mused in a way that so few people ever see. Kurt smiles at the sight of it all. He can’t remember the last time he saw Blaine like this; college probably.  
You should know that Kurt finds the sight beautiful.  
  
Blaine sighs heavily and Kurt’s spirits lower just to hear it. He wants Blaine to be happy he realizes; always happy.  
  
“Hello stranger.” At the sound of Kurt’s voice Blaine jumps, almost knocking over his keyboard. “Sorry if I scared you.” Kurt doesn’t bother hiding his grin.  
  
“No you’re not.” Blaine mock glares at him and Kurt walks into the bedroom gesturing for him to stay put when he makes to leave his music.  
  
“I see you’re jamming. Got something on your mind?” Blaine shrugs.  
  
“Sort of. Jeremiah and I have been getting stuff for the wedding together.” Blaine smiles softly as if remembering something good .“Did you know that one of the first things people notice at a wedding is the shape and texture of the napkins?”  
  
“Of course,” Kurt replies. Any wedding planner worth half their salt knows that.  
  
“Of course you do.” Blaine teases fondly. “Regina insists we have to pick out napkins, and I didn’t know about the napkin rule so I guess we’re running behind. I’ve been trying to talk to Jeremiah about them for days now but he’s basically leaving all the planning to us; which is no help at all since I have next to no idea what I’m doing and I want it to be perfect for both of us. My mom suggested we get them folded in the shape of doves, can you believe that? I mean, these are items used to wipe food from your face. Why do they have to be shaped like doves?”  
  
“Because it’s fabulous.” Blaine has never had quite Kurt’s appreciation for ceremony. “I released a dozen live doves at my dad’s wedding, do you think I did it because it was practical?” He asks, one haughty brow arched.  
  
“Hey don’t yell at me, I’m not the one dragging my feet here; talk to Jeremiah. I’m down with doves, or tea cakes, or whatever it is mom and Regina think needs getting for the perfect wedding. I’m more concerned about our first dance as husbands.”  
  
“What about it?”  
  
“It’s the start to the rest of our lives together, Kurt. It’s a moment we’ll never have again and I want it to say something. I don’t just want to play a track, I want to sing and to dance to something that tells him exactly how I feel about him and us and everything we’re about to start together.” Kurt has to smile at the way Blaine says that, even though it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Blaine looks so earnest and dreamy when he talks about that first dance.  
After everything- Kurt and Jeremiah’s antics combined- how is he still such a hopeless romantic?  
  
“You used to sneak into your sister’s room and steal her bridal magazines didn’t you?” Kurt asks and Blaine makes a face.  
  
“No I did not…. But I can’t say I minded eavesdropping when she had her friends over.”  
  
“Any luck so far?” Kurt asks and Blaine’s smile fades. He glances down at his keyboard pensively.  
  
“Oh I’ve messed around with a bunch and they’re all good…. just not anything special. Nothing feels right.”  
  
There’s a mean voice in Kurt’s head that says the reason Blaine can’t find the right song to sing to his fiancé on their wedding day is because he hasn’t picked the right fiancé. Like at all. Anyone would be better. He knows better than to actually make a remark like that, it goes completely against that other desire of his to see Blaine happy.  
  
Blaine, still lost in his own thoughts, bites his lip and then slowly raises his head to look back up at Kurt, his expression suddenly a lot more intense. “There’s one...but, I’m not sure it’s right for us.”  
  
“What, you don’t think it fits?” Kurt asks and when Blaine seems to have trouble forming an answer he decides to take matters into his own hands. No matter how he feels about Jeremiah he wants Blaine to be happy and if finding some syrupy song to dance with on his wedding day is going to do that, by god Kurt will find him the perfect song.  
  
“Alright then, you sing, we’ll dance, and then I’ll tell you what I think.” He suggests as he gets to his feet. He raises his arms ready for Blaine to step into them and lead him around the room.  
  
Blaine’s eyes widen a fraction and he bites his lip again, clearly second guessing this before they even start. Kurt gestures impatiently with one hand, wondering what the holdup is.  
  
“Blaine, do you want my help or not?” He asks. Blaine stares at him for a moment more and then without speaking he looks down to the keyboard and begins playing the beginnings of a melody. As the notes fill the tiny bedroom Kurt smiles something warming inside at the familiar notes. He’d know this song anywhere.  
  
You’d have to torture him to admit it but years ago, when he was a starry eyed teenager, he’d loved this song because he’d thought nothing in the world could say more or be more romantic.  
Something twists uncomfortably in his gut as Blaine starts to sing and leaves the keyboard. Kurt’s smile is pained, thin and stretched despite knowing he has good news for Blaine. This is perfect he thinks as Blaine takes his hand and slides an arm around his waist.  
  
 _Never knew I could feel like this  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
Want to vanish inside your kiss  
Everyday I love you more and more  
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing  
Telling me to give you everything  
Seasons may change winter to spring  
But I love you until the end of time_  
  
Blaine has one of the most beautiful voices Kurt has ever heard and it’s perfect for the song. He sings it with such emotion, always as if he feels each and every word deeply. The silly faces he makes when he gets carried away should be humorous but the sincerity he always brings to his music, it captivates and Kurt is caught in the sound of his voice and the directness of his gaze.  
  
He spins Kurt and as he turns into the circle of Blaine’s arms Kurt’s mouth opens of its own accord and he starts singing. Blaine does not seem surprised. He smiles up at Kurt as if it were something he’d expected and their voices flow together as if they had been made for this duet.  
  
 _Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace_  
  
And Kurt does feel like things are perfect: that time has slowed to the perfect tempo, that the world around him is suddenly brighter and open where it wasn’t before. He closes his eyes and tries to imagine the wedding: flower petals and white suites and dove feathers.  
  
They dance in a slow circle and as they lean against each other Kurt doesn’t know if it’s his heart he hears pounding so loudly in his ears or Blaine’s.  
  
 _“But I love you,_ ” Blaine sings softly.  
  
 _“I love you,”_ Kurt returns.  
  
The words are perfect; Kurt loves everything about them. He loves the way Blaine’s lips feel against his skin forming them, loves the way they settle in his ears like a promise, loves the way they feel on his own tongue as he sings with Blaine.  
  
 _“I will love you”_ Kurt sings the reprise, and he hopes Blaine can see, hopes that he knows that he means every word. _“Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place.”_  
  
Blaine makes things feel perfect. Nothing is ever going to mean more to him than what this man he is holding has given him. Unconditional love that supports the strongest friendship he has ever been in. It makes these words feel solid and not in the least silly or fanciful.  
  
Kurt does not feel foolish or childish as Blaine turns him into his arms so that his back is to his chest. Despite the difference in their height it feels comfortable, and it’s the most natural thing in the world to close his eyes and sing his heart out because his heart has never felt so big (like it might burst right out of his chest) and he has never wanted to smile so wide.  
  
 _Come what may  
Come what may  
I will love you.  
Until my dying day._  
  
They finish as if the world were a stage and they had an audience of thousands, but their eyes are only for each other. They’re both grinning from ear to ear, flushed and exhilarated. It has been a long time since Kurt felt a song move him like that, a long time since he let one; he remembers that party with Yusef and singing Black Velvet and he has the silly thought that Blaine brings music to his life.  
  
Blaine never stops singing and he makes Kurt want to sing simply because there’s something gravitational about how open Blaine always seems when he listens. So openly moved, so in tune with the heart of whatever he’s listening to- and the fact that he loves listening to him?  
Kurt’s not sure what to call the look he’s wearing on his face as they stare at each other, catching their breath, but he can see himself in Blaine’s eyes and it’s appropriately proud.  
The moment shatters at the sound of pounding on the door and Blaine scurries to answer the irate neighbor who has come to shut them up. Kurt does a poor job of looking contrite and as soon as Blaine has the door shut again he’s practically howling.  
  
Blaine, embarrassed and sure that his neighbor can hear and will retaliate, tries to clamp a hand over his mouth. Kurt twists out of his reach and laughs louder and Blaine chases him as they stumble back to the bedroom.  
  
They fall onto the bed, a ball of twisting limbs and chuckles and they only rest when their sides ache and their lungs burn for air.  
  
Kurt breathes deeply, catching his breath, and stares up at the ceiling, letting the perfection of the moment settle over him. Blaine’s nose brushes the side of his neck, just above his collar bone as he shifts just the tiniest bit closer, and he makes a soft sound of contentment.  
“Back in high school, I wanted to fall in love like that,” Blaine murmurs and a slow smile spreads across Kurt’s lips. Him too. Hadn’t he just thought that? The difference between them is that Kurt grew up and abandoned fairy tales and Blaine somehow never did. That reminds him of where he is- lying with an engaged man on the bed he shares with his intended- and the dream cracks, letting bitterness sweep in.  
  
“You wanted to grow up and fall in love with a prostitute?” He teases quietly; because he has to. The moment calls for it, the way the words cut are a needed pins in his balloon. It’s time to come back down to earth.  
  
“Of course not,” Blaine chuckles, his breath tickling the nape of Kurt’s neck. “I wanted to grow up and find something that felt like that; so that if I ever did… well then I guess it really wouldn’t matter.”  
  
Kurt swallows the sudden lump in his throat and doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing he can say, nothing that will do any good and that won’t embarrass him.  
  
“Kurt?” Blaine rolls over, giving him the space he hasn’t even realized he needs yet and resting his hand against Kurt’s to keep the contact that he knows he does. “I really am sorry for freaking out on you at the restaurant. We’re not together like in the song, but I wanted you to know that’s how I feel. I love you come what may. You’re you, and you’re my friend. Nothing else matters.”  
  
Kurt swallows thickly again and after a moment of thought he throws caution to the wind and closes the space between them, wrapping his arms around Blaine. It’s late, he’s happy, warm and safe; and he’s so so thankful that all of his fears had come to nothing.  
  
Kurt told Blaine, Blaine knows, and they carry on as usual.

 

********

 

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asks later. Kurt has already told Blaine that he’d be an idiot not to choose that song for his first dance, and they are laying on the bed together watching a late night showing of Desperado, only Kurt hasn’t been paying attention.  
  
Not even a sexy man in leather can distract him from his heavy thoughts. There are things he simply can’t put in a box and shove off in a corner somewhere. Such as the fact that he just sang the duet he wants to dance to with his best friend at his wedding to another man. Yeah that.  
  
Kurt doesn’t want to get married, the very idea makes him roll his eyes, but nevertheless he knows that that song is exactly what Blaine should sing to the man he loves as they join their lives together and well…  
  
There’s this snarky little voice in Kurt’s head that won’t shut up about how that’s why the song is actually all wrong for Blaine and Jeremiah’s wedding. He loves and hates his bitchier side because while he appreciates sharp wit he’d like to be able to lay there and lie to himself in peace. He doesn’t plan on marrying Blaine ever and that’s the whole point of being Blaine’s best man- best friend- letting him find someone who will give him all the things he needs.  
  
And he doesn’t want to hold Blaine back from that it’s just that…things are always so good with Blaine. Case and point: not even an hour before he’d been fighting off some creep channeling Jack the Ripper, and now he’s snuggled up warm with his best friend after singing the most amazing duet ever invented and just feeling so much....so much need. The need to curl into Blaine until there’s no separating them. The need to beg Blaine not to dance to that song at his wedding unless _he_ is the one he dances with.  
  
All of this is insane of course and incredibly selfish because really; what would Jeremiah say? What would Jeremiah say about them now, curled in the bed that he and Blaine share?  
  
“Nothing,” he finally mumbles in reply, turning his head to look at Blaine. He should really get up and go. They kind of suck at this whole moving on thing.  
  
“You never did explain why you came over so late, you know. Did something happen with…” Blaine trails off and Kurt finds himself nodding without really thinking about the consequences.  
  
“Tell me,” Blaine coaxes gently. Kurt decides he doesn’t want to move. It takes too much effort. He can be better at moving on tomorrow.  
  
“Doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Come on Kurt.” Kurt can tell by the look on Blaine’s face that there’s no room for argument. He only has himself to blame for that. He’d wanted to be able to talk to Blaine about work and now here he is demanding information and Kurt’s reluctant to spill the beans.  
  
“Just…this client got really weird, freaked me out a bit.”  
  
“Did he hurt you?” Blaine asks immediately, a look of worry crossing his features.  
  
“No,” Kurt answers quickly, closing his eyes. He cracks one open to see that Blaine’s not convinced. “Really” he reassures.  
  
They both jump as Kurt’s phone starts ringing suddenly. Blaine tries to pull him back down as he stands to answer it.  
  
“Is that work?” he asks. “Don’t get it. I want to talk to you!”  
  
“Blaine stop, of course I have to get it.” Kurt hisses at him before walking into the kitchen. “What do you want?!” He snaps at Sue in greeting.  
  
 _“Well if that’s the way you talk to clients it’s no wonder someone complained!”_  
  
“Sue that guy was freaking insane! What the hell are you doing sending me someone like that?”  
  
 _“Jason? Nonsense, he’s a sweetheart. There’s no proof he had anything to do with all his girlfriends disappearing. Besides, he’s a big fan of yours. I thought you could handle him.”_  
  
“You’ve dealt with him before?” Kurt asks incredulously.  
  
 _“Yes. Brian didn’t seem to take to him. ‘Called me crying like a little girl and I tell you it was about as annoying as listening to that Harry Potter kid weep all over the place about his poor dead parents and mean people offing his friends. Are all the British such pansies?”_  
  
“You mean this guy was with Brian first?” Kurt demands to know and this time there is not a drop of jealousy. Despite what happened between him and Brian, Kurt can’t help but feel outraged. Jason was clearly off balance and if he’d upset cool and aloof ‘expect the worst’ Brian that much, then he truly must have done something horrible.  
“Sue! Is he alright?”  
  
 _“Oh excuse me, I wasn’t aware you cared these days Kurt. I apologize; I thought that you ditched Brian like a hot sack of potatoes. Very sorry, I’ll try and keep up. Darcy Potter is no longer my star, I need a real man out there leading the charge not a whiny sloppy scardey baby.”_ Sue’s voice is patronizing which pisses Kurt off even more. This is not about being brave. That guy had been a nut job!  
  
“You can insult and bluster all you want Sue but we both know that the only person you’re mad at right now is you! You could have gotten one of us killed!” Kurt hangs up the phone angrily before she can say another word; he doesn’t have anything else to say to her. He shoves his phone back in his pocket and turns around to see Blaine hovering in the doorway, waiting to see if he’s going to get his head bitten off.  
  
“Do you wanna see my dove?” He asks tentatively, holding up a napkin that’s basically been folded in half and screwed up; decorative fabric folding is obviously not Blaine’s forte.  
It’s such a random Blaine thing to do, and so _adorable_ frankly, so entirely unlike anything about the world he just hung up on that Kurt can’t help but laugh. He laughs so hard it hurts.  
  
“Blaine sometimes....I mean you’re just a little hopeless,” Kurt says fondly as they both fall onto the couch. But Blaine apparently thinks Kurt has had enough time to get himself together and is back to trying to pry him open.  
  
“That guy could have really hurt you.” Blaine’s tone is serious and firm, and Kurt knows this is a conversation he isn’t going to be able to avoid having now.  
  
“Well, he didn’t,” he feebly reassures. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to comfort more, Blaine or himself.  
  
“Don’t do that. Why can’t you just admit that you were scared? I heard you on the phone; you said he could have killed you. That’s why you’re here so late isn’t it? You’re still shaken up. Kurt, I know I said we’d go on, and that all of this would become normal but I...I can’t sit here and let some asshole hurt you. You have to-”  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt interrupts him before he can get going. “I admit, it was a little scary, but it won’t happen again. We have safety measures in place and if you think about it I’m safer with a client than I would be picking up some random guy in a bar. Sue has all his info, she knows when he comes and when he leaves. In fact murdering me would be a surefire way to get his ass a lifetime in prison.”  
  
“Not reassuring me Kurt.”  
  
“Look Blaine I needed the work alright!” Kurt doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but he does.  
  
“The clients review us on the website; you get a bad write up and suddenly you’re left with the dregs that no one else wants.”  
  
“So you’re saying you’re stuck with guys like that creep you saw tonight because someone else didn’t like you?” Blaine asks doubtfully.  
  
“Yeah Blaine, in my line of work that’s how it goes.”  
  
“Come on Kurt. This is not okay. You need to get some perspective, see how normal people live.”  
  
“Normal?” Kurt repeats, offended. “I’m an escort Blaine not a guy with three heads and a tail!”  
  
“You know what I mean. Ordinary.”  
  
“Ordinary people? Like who Blaine? Ordinary people who aren’t whores you mean?”  
  
“Can you stop that?!” Blaine shouts, exasperated. “Be fair Kurt. I sound judgmental I know, and I promise I’m working on it but I think I deserve a pass when you come running over here in the middle of the night because you were alone with some creep who could have killed you!”  
  
Okay, he’s right. Kurt can admit that. He is being unfair but god he hates the way Blaine says the word normal like Kurt is some naughty child who needs to be taught how to behave. He doesn’t mean it to be mean but he does mean it. That’s the rub. If ever Kurt wondered he knows for sure now Blaine hate’s what he is…who he is.  
  
“Can’t you just take a break? Please,” Blaine pleads with him now. “See what other people get up to. You’ve been doing this for so long that I think you’ve forgotten. Please, Kurt. For me. Let me show you something different.”  
  
Kurt can’t stay mad at Blaine.  
  
It helps that Blaine is not the one he’s mad at in the first place. He doesn’t know who he’s mad at right now. Sue for putting him in danger; definitely. Brian for all the things he said; maybe.  
  
Himself: because Blaine puts him to shame. He’s a friend come what may, and Kurt is the hugest sort of hypocrite because he’d set out to show Brian that he can trust people, told him he wanted to be his friend only to bail at the first injury.  
Is he going to do that his whole life? Run away when loving someone might hurt?  
  
“If it’s for you,” Kurt decides, “then okay. I’ve been needing a vacation anyway.” Kurt smiles and then he yelps. Blaine wastes no time between his agreement and pulling him into a bear hug.  
“Yes! Kurt, this is awesome.”  
“My regular clients aren’t going to think so. I’ll probably lose a few.” Sue is going to kill him. Then he remembers Jason and doesn’t give a damn.  
  
“All of your clients should feel lucky to have you” Blaine reassures as Kurt relaxes into his embrace. “You’re freaking stunning.”  
  
“Yeah well apparently I’m frigid.”  
  
“As I recall that was never your problem. Nympho maybe, sex crazed lunatic definitely, but never frigid.”  
  
“You never minded when it was aimed at you,” Kurt reminds him as he ruffles Blaine’s curls mischievously.  
  
“Will you stay tonight?” Blaine asks softly, brushing that consistently errant strand of hair from Kurt’s forehead. “I don’t like the idea of you going back to your apartment alone in the middle of the night. That guy could still be hanging around.”  
  
Kurt agrees- making out that he’s doing _him_ the favor but in reality he was just waiting for Blaine to ask- and he sighs in relief. Not so much because he’s afraid- he seriously doubts that Jason would come back and if he did then Sue and her heavies are just a phone call away- more because he doesn’t want to be on his own. He wants to feel someone sleeping next to him, and not just because they’re paying him for it. Blaine loves Kurt and all of his embraces are freely given.  
  
It’s a beautiful novelty.

  
***************

  
  
Kurt Hummel is on vacation for the first time in years. Sue is not pleased, but since Kurt is correct and she isn’t happy with herself for getting Brian hurt and Kurt nearly, she’s not exactly in a position to argue the matter.  
So Kurt Hummel has taken his friend Blaine’s advice and decided to experience his days like the normal people do.  
  
What he’d failed to remind Kurt of in his gallant quest was that normal people have normal jobs from nine in the morning until just about five in the evening and aren’t around to entertain him.  
Kurt doesn’t have a problem spending time by himself per say. In the week or so that he has had off he has redecorated the other rooms in his apartment, has done laundry and grocery shopping, called his parents back in Lima (he’s guilty at how surprised they seem to be to hear from him) and completed the majority of all those little jobs ‘around the house’ that have been mounting up.  
  
He meets Blaine for lunch every day, bringing him healthy (but decidedly delicious) home cooked meals because he actually has time to cook now. He has eaten dinner with Blaine and Jeremiah twice, and it’s not the most fun (Jeremiah seems to have given up trying to befriend him, in fact there’s a new even sharper edge to all their interactions) but since Jeremiah is going to be Blaine’s husband in a few months Kurt is determined to bear it with grace.  
  
He goes out every day and remembers why he dreamed about moving to New York in the first place. He has walked the equivalent of two tourists, has gone to see a film, and has even fallen in love with this quaint little bookshop not too far from his favorite cafe. He’s sitting there now, people watching and nursing a tall iced mocha, dressed to kill and he feels great. So it’s not like things are terrible; but it still feels off.  
  
It’s all just… too sweet for his mouth, like a desert you can only eat so much of without getting sick. Plus he’s getting bored spending so much time by himself every day. Kurt figures that between clients and Blaine he has become used to spending less than an eighth of his day alone. It will take some getting used to all this free time. Kurt sighs.  
  
He sees a man around his age in a business suit, rushing along with a briefcase and a stack of documents, only to drop half of them in his haste. There’s a woman in her forties sitting at a table next to him having her lunch, only to rush off moments later as she apologizes profusely to whoever has just called her. Then there’s a young teacher with a group of girls from an exclusive private school, warning them under her breath that their bad behavior is tarnishing their school’s good name. Kurt smiles at this, remembering all the stories Blaine has told him about growing up in private schools.  
  
All of it is so constrained, so confining. Kurt’s not sure he likes how the _normal_ people live.  
  
He idly pulls out his phone to see if he has any missed calls or messages; no such luck. Well, Kurt is not above playing the desperate housewife. It’s surprisingly accurate to how he feels.  
  
“ _Hello?_ ” Blaine answers after a few rings, sounding quite harassed.  
  
“You’re very, very hungry and you’re absolutely _dying_ to take off early today with your best friend Kurt.”  
  
 _“Sorry, can’t,”_ Blaine answers immediately.  
  
“I thought normal people could take off early.”  
  
 _“They can on occasion, but they can’t be in two places at once. I’m with mom and Regina. They’re going on about wedding cars. I’m not even sure what that is but apparently there’s lots of choices to be made: colors, brands, styles-”_  
  
“I’m telling you horse drawn carriage. It’s a little Cinderella but not if you work it right.”  
  
 _“A horse drawn carriage, Kurt are you-”_ there’s some fumbling and Kurt hears Blaine grunt like he has just been elbowed (he has) and then he hears Regina’s voice come on the line.  
 _“ Oh my god, yes, it’s perfect! But are you sure? I mean isn’t it a little too Disney?”_  
  
“Trust me, go with the carriage,” Kurt insists. “A winter carriage ride down the lane in our beautiful city? It’s gorgeous. What’s your color scheme?”  
  
 _“Sage green and white pearl. Blaine and J look fantastic in it but we’re worried about the best men. I’m afraid the white pearl will wash you out and J’s cousin is a red head.”_  
  
“Go olive green and put your white to better use. Incorporate different shades and add in a third color. Royal blue because I look fantastic in it, so will cousin carrot, and the carriage will just be out of this world with those colors.”  
  
 _“You know...that’s actually just perfect! You’re on to something kid. Thanks a bunch. Mom and I want to make this perfect for Blainey but he’s the worst at decision making. Why aren’t you here? You should be here. Be here.”_  
  
Kurt is laughing as Blaine wrestles his phone away from Regina.  
  
 _“No don’t come here. Mom and Reggie are driving me crazy as it is. I don’t think I could handle throwing you into the mix. You’re as bad as they are.”_  
  
“That’s what you get for having two wedding planners in the family Blaine.”  
  
Kurt says goodbye shortly after that and after finishing his coffee he wanders through the park and decides to head to that book shop he has become so fond of. He might get something for himself or something for his father whose birthday is coming up.  
  
Kurt has always feared that one of these days he will run into a client outside of work, and today is that day.  
  
When he walks into the shop and the door jingles the clerk at the counter as well as the guy he’s ringing up turn around to glance at him; Kurt starts in shock.  
  
“Kurt.” Alex’s smile is wide as he recognizes him. “What are you doing here?”  
  
It takes Kurt a moment to get his bearings. He supposes if he had to run into any of his clients outside the job he’d prefer Alex. He’s as sweet as ever, and he looks amazing in his cargo shorts and t-shirt. He doesn’t look like a wealthy business man at all, more like a movie star, but not at all cold or aloof. Those beautiful green eyes of his are always a little too kind for that.  
  
“Oh just stopping in. I found this place a few days ago and I really like it,” Kurt answers with a smile.  
  
“It’s charming isn’t it? Thank you.” Alex nods to the clerk as he finishes making his purchase. Kurt takes the book out of Alex’s hand before he can stick it into the shoulder bag he carries and reads the cover.  
  
“A big Percy Jackson fan are you?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“Possibly,” Alex replies with a grin, and at Kurt’s skeptical glance he adds, “it’s for my nephew. He spends a lot of time in hospitals so I like to get him stuff to read. He’s a real bright kid; quite the imagination.”  
  
Kurt smiles- not just because Alex is too good to be true, but because he could sit all day and listen to the soft timber of his voice and the beautiful way he makes things sound. His accent reminds him of Brian, and Kurt feels a pang somewhere in his gut. He’d really messed that whole thing up terribly hadn’t he?  
  
“You _would_ spend your day buying books for sickly children in hospitals. Alex we need to get you drunk, or find you some motorcycling chain smoker to have a fling with. You’re too perfect.”  
  
“I’m far from perfect Kurt. My entire family is worried I’m losing it. I mean: I came here to escape the memories, I’m barely a part of my own business anymore, the closest thing I have to a friend here in America is a guy 11 years my junior and no offense, but he’s a proud prostitute. I have no hobbies to speak of except if you count visiting hospitals to comfort the sick. And not because I’m a saint or something, but because a part of me still hopes one day I’ll walk in and the patient will be the guy I moved here to forget.” Alex says as they move to a different section of the store. “Clinically disturbed maybe. Perfect. No.”  
  
“You’re not disturbed Alex,” Kurt reassures him firmly. Jason: disturbed. Alex: no. “At least not any more than anyone who’s grieving has a right to be. You lost someone you loved in a horrible way with no closure. I think I’d hang around hospitals too.”  
  
Alex smiles widely at Kurt, grateful and so admiring and Kurt steps a bit closer. Maybe Brian was right about Victor, he can accept that now. He can accept that now that he has spent days in the sunshine watching other people with family and loved ones, now that he spends his mornings thinking about someone he loves, preparing meals with love and care and looking forward to the moment when he’ll see him again. He can accept that now that he has seen how Blaine will dance with his husband the day they get married.  
  
Yeah people make mistakes, and they aren’t perfect but what Victor does with him repeatedly, behind his spouses back, it’s ugly not because it’s sex with someone other than his wife. It’s ugly because she doesn’t know, she doesn’t want it, and he doesn’t care. It’s a betrayal of trust.  
  
But it’s not everyone. Kurt has been right too. There are good people in the world, and Alex is one of them. Kurt hasn’t been in a real relationship since Blaine he realizes. And it frightens him even more to realize that in his mind, he hasn’t pictured himself in one ever again. He has been okay with that because he didn’t think he needed it. He had people like Victor.  
Kurt cringes, feeling sick at the thought.  
  
This week of living normally? Maybe it hasn’t been so bad. And normal people...they meet someone warm and wonderful and they reach for each other, and they see if it’s a match. They hurt each other to be sure, everyone does, but they try harder to be good to each other. Why had he given up on that?

 

********

  
Kurt doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing. He just knows that he needs this, to be close to someone sexually and intimately. Someone who looks at him with the light side of desire, who sees beauty and potential in all of the mess he has made. Alex is so warm and giving-like Blaine, if Kurt’s honest, but this can’t be about Blaine.  
  
Yes, Kurt’s in love with him, but Blaine is not for him. He’s marrying someone else, and this isn’t about that even. It’s about Kurt, and the fact that he gave up on a dream once, he gave up on ever being loved and he did it long before he started escorting. There’s brokenness inside him and this is just one area, but it’s finally a wound he’s ready to face.  
  
You should know this about Kurt. There was once a boy named Sean who was beautiful and smart. He’d seemed to know everything and everyone. He was the kind of boy who got everything just for the price of one of his smiles, and he’d picked skinny Kurt Hummel from Lima Ohio out of everyone. Kurt had never felt more special, more beautiful, more anything in his entire life than he had then because there was a boy- one beautiful special boy who wanted him of all people.  
  
Two weeks into the start of term, two weeks an adult away from home, and he’d found himself on the bathroom floor at a mixer, drunk to the point of being sick but flying high because someone was touching him, someone was whispering in his ear how beautiful he was. Sean wanted him where no one else ever had… but he also wanted Luke, and Sarah, and after that Kevin.  
  
Kurt had decided then that it was okay. But now he knows that it wasn’t really. It hadn’t been okay, not at all. It could have been. If he’d have used his voice, if he’d listened to Blaine or Mercedes- or any of his other new friends who were leery of Sean’s reputation- and spoken up for himself, then maybe. If he’d listened to himself and the sound of his own breaking even.  
  
Now Kurt is ready to listen. Ready to speak, and it’s essential that Alex see him. This isn’t about Blaine, and it can’t be about Aaron either. It’s about them- Kurt and Alex- and how they both need to heal.  
  
“I’m not Aaron you know. Ricky couldn’t be, and I can’t be either. I’m just Kurt and I’d like it if you were here with me right now.”  
  
They’re in Kurt’s home, and Alex is holding Kurt’s face with both hands as he answers. “Kurt, Kurt Hummel. I can see you. And I still think you’re beautiful.”  
  
The first kiss is fearful on both ends, as if they are both waiting for some explosion, some terrible calamity to arise to make fools of them both for reaching for happiness they don’t deserve.  
  
As their lips warm and the kiss lingers it intensifies until it sears. They’re hungry, just this side of desperate and it’s thrilling. Kurt moans into the kiss as their tongues tangle, stroking and twisting for the glorious sake of feeling, before one of them retreats and allows the other to plunder at will.  
  
Kurt’s hands let go of Alex’s shoulders to grab him from behind and pull their bodies flush against each other.  
  
“We should...bedroom” Alex groans into his mouth, never breaking contact as they walk backwards down the hall.  
  
Kurt takes him to his room. The one he sleeps in, not the one he works in.  
  
They strip off clothes. They run hands over naked limbs and laugh at the tremble in the others body. They kiss like they are starving, and then slow to kiss like they’ve all the time in the world. They praise each other, pointing out what is beautiful and wanted when they come across it.  
  
“I love the way your nose curves just that little bit,” Alex breaths against his skin, peppering kisses across his cheeks, and then one to the tip of his nose.  
  
“I love your hands, how big they are, and how they’re shaking right now,” Kurt offers next, grasping one of Alex’s hands and pressing a kiss to the palm. Alex for all that he has wanted Kurt has not touched him until he asked for it. Kurt could love him just for that.  
  
“I love the way you make me feel,” they say almost on the same breath and they smile at each other. There’s no ‘I love you’. It would be a lie for both of them. But it’s okay. Neither of them need to hear that just then.  
  
Love doesn’t end in a day and neither of them expects miracles or wish to hurt the other. Healing is going to take a lot more than making love on a bright summer afternoon.  
  
And they do, make love that is. If you want to know the difference between it and the other, the thing that Kurt does with his body but can’t in the least be called making love, there’s not much I can give you in words.  
  
You just know it when you feel it. And Kurt is ready to feel it again finally and you might be happy to know that it’s as glorious as he remembered.

  
***********

  
  
Kurt groans as the sun creeps through his bedroom window, effectively waking him from a very pleasant dream. Any hopes he’d had of dropping back to sleep are squashed as he gradually becomes aware of the New York traffic below, already noisy and gridlocked despite the early hour. Then his eyes shoot wide open as someone moves next to him in bed, leaning over to kiss his neck gently. Then he calms as yesterday’s events come flooding back to him; he slept with Alex. They had dinner and then they’d slept together again and not a wad of bills in sight.  
  
Kurt is just trying to wrap his head around the fact, and to figure out what it all means when his phone rings. He barely glances at the caller ID. He knows his luck and the way it works. It can’t be anyone but Blaine.  
  
“I slept with someone last night,” he whispers fiercely as he pads into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. He doesn’t know why it sounds like such a confession, or why he’s waiting so nervously for Blaine’s response.  
  
 _“Okay....um. Are you worried about how they’ll review you or....?”_  
  
“No Blaine, I’m on vacation remember. I mean I really slept with him, because I like him” Kurt hisses back.  
  
 _“Oh no.”_ Blaine doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s laughing, and Kurt feels relief wash over him. This is okay; Blaine isn’t upset- though Kurt doesn’t really know why he thought he would be. Blaine is probably happy he’s doing normal things like sleeping with sexy men and thinking about relationships and shit. It’s all so weird.  
  
“Don’t laugh Blaine, help me! I hope you know I hold you fully responsible for this! ‘You need to get some perspective Kurt, see how normal people live’.” Kurt mimics him and Blaine laughs harder.  
  
 _“I sound nothing like that!”_  
  
Kurt hangs up as he hears Alex leave the bedroom and he doesn’t know why. It’s a nervous movement like he’s afraid of Alex peeking in and finding him curled on the floor in a ball whispering into his phone.  
  
Yeah that actually wouldn’t look too good.  
  
Kurt decides to man up and face whatever comes next like an adult. He shouts for Alex to make himself comfortable and then goes to get dressed and make himself presentable again. Then he leaves the bathroom and finds Alex sitting in the kitchen, cup of coffee in hand and reading an old newspaper.  
  
“I’m getting a bit hungry. So hungry it hurts, actually. Why don’t we go and get some proper breakfast. Maybe even brunch?” Alex suggests when he sees him and just like that Kurt relaxes. He can do this.  
  
“That sounds great. I’ll have to call a friend of mine first and make sure that it’s okay first. We had plans to meet up with some old friends who are in town this week.” Kurt answers just as someone knocks on the door. “Hold on let me go get that.”  
  
“Wow. Okay so when I said help I didn’t mean you had to come rushing over here,” Kurt whispers in shock when he sees Blaine standing outside his door. Blaine mouths something about being in the neighborhood and brushes past Kurt and heading straight for the kitchen.  
  
“Hi, my name’s Blaine. Blaine Anderson. You must be a friend of Kurt’s?” he asks as he flops down next to Alex on the window seat.  
  
“Ah...yes actually. How do you do?” Alex responds politely, clearly confused as to where Blaine came from and just what he’s doing there. Kurt is kind of wondering the same thing. He shoots Blaine warning glances, because he really will kill him if this is the moment he decides to fly into a jealous rage.  
  
“Very well thank you,” Blaine responds, grinning widely and offering Alex his hand. Kurt tries to fight back his giggles at the picture they both make. Blaine in shorts and a t-shirt with his ratty sandals and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head and Alex bare footed and in yesterday’s clothes, greeting each other like two gentlemen over tea.  
  
“Anderson?” Alex muses, “Not United Banks, Anderson surely?”  
  
“Guilty I’m afraid. Third generation. My father’s the current CEO.”  
  
“I’ve heard good things about your corporation.”  
  
“Thank you, but it isn’t my corporation. I don’t work for UB, at least not yet. I wanted the chance to make my own way without anyone saying the way was paved for me. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.”  
  
“Yes. Why are you here Blaine” Kurt asks, a little snippy but Blaine largely just ignores him, still grinning.  
  
“Kurt and I were supposed to hang out today, but I can see I interrupted you both. I apologize. But can I thank you?” Alex’s eyes narrow in confusion and Kurt’s widen in embarrassment.  
  
“Blaine!”  
  
“Hear me out and then I’ll get out of your hair. Kurt’s my best friend and he deserves a great guy, so don’t let him run you off, he’s just extremely relationship stunted.”  
  
“If you don’t stop talking Blaine, I swear I’ll hurt you.” Kurt promises and Blaine actually laughs.  
  
“But that’s just the thing, he deserves a really great guy. A _really_ great guy, and he has got friends who are looking out for him. Just thought I'd let you know.”  
  
“Oh my god, I hate you so much right now.” Kurt groans into his hands.  
  
Alex stares at Blaine for a few seconds and then looks to Kurt and asks, “Ben?”  
  
As Kurt nods and Blaine watches them both in confusion, Alex smiles.  
  
“Yes. And I’ll have you know I count myself as one of them Mr. Anderson.”  
  
“The both of you need to get out of my sight right now.” Kurt tells them both gesturing towards the door.  
  
Why does he have such morons for friends? It’s a little bit wonderful, Kurt thinks to himself hiding a grin.

  
  
********

  
“He seems nice,” Blaine remarks innocently as Kurt pours them both fresh mugs of coffee. It has been a full day, much of it spent with Alex. Blaine has come over under the pretense to apologize for embarrassing him and actually is just waiting for all of the details.  
  
“He is,” Kurt agrees.  
  
“But?” How does Blaine know there is a but?  
  
“Alex is in love with someone else.” Kurt doesn’t add ‘and so am I’ but he wonders if he even needs to after that duet they sang the other night. Blaine would have to be particularly obtuse not to know that there is a lot unsaid between them, even for Blaine. “He’s wonderful, he really is but we both know that we can’t rush into something when we’re unsure of where we’re going. Plus let’s not forget that I’m an escort and that will complicate things when I go back to work.”  
  
By the way that Blaine’s face falls Kurt knows for sure that he was hoping this little vacation away from work would open some sort of door and make Kurt see what a terrible life he’s living. While he can admit he has realized that he has given up on some things that maybe he shouldn’t have, that doesn’t mean the total of his life is absolute shit. He still misses his job.  
  
Kurt grabs Blaine’s hand and squeezes it tightly.  
  
“But I’m still me, I’m still your best friend,” he reassures him with vehemence until Blaine looks up at him again and offers him a small smile. “I’m happy Blaine, the happiest I’ve been since we graduated five years ago. And most of it is because of you, because you’re willing to be here with me.”  
  
“You promise?” Blaine eyes him suspiciously, still not entirely convinced.  
  
“I’m done lying to you.” Kurt promises. “I never want to lie to you again.”  
  
“I’ll have to hurt you if you even try.” Blaine laughs, relaxing once again and Kurt rolls his eyes because the idea of Blaine hurting him is ridiculous.  
  
“You really want to go back Kurt?”  
  
“I do,” Kurt replies, and he means it… but it seems to hurt a little coming out nonetheless.  
It will be harder this time juggling work, a best friend, and a maybe-one-day-boyfriend. He’s scared.  
  
“Okay,” Blaine relents and Kurt is grateful because for one of the first times it doesn’t sound like _‘why_ ’.  
  
Despite what he’d said to Blaine Kurt doesn’t call the agency to start work again immediately. The truth is he really has enjoyed the time away and he’s still fuming with Sue.  
  
Finally the night after his conversation with Blaine, Kurt’s phone starts ringing just as he’s settling down on the sofa with a cup of coffee. He’s an addict he has decided.  
  
“Calling to see if I haven’t starved to death?” He asks before Sue can even get a word in.  
  
 _“Turns out one man’s shit sandwich really is another man’s Crème Brûlée. The phone’s been ringing off the hook with clients wanting to see you; Becky’s currently sifting through a bunch of online bookings too.”_ Kurt raises his eyebrows in surprise.  
“What happened to my roasting by the critics?”  
  
 _“The public are fickle, just look at what happened with president Obama. Looks to me like you’re back in favor. Now I’ve got a wonderful man lined up for you. His name’s Malvin, 45, sounds gorgeous over the phone.”_  
  
“And how did the last guy you gave me sound over the phone?” Sue should be able to guess from his tone that Kurt is still far from happy with her.  
  
 _“Are we still on this? I gave you your little vacation. I thought you’d be over this by now.”_  
  
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” Kurt begins with determination. “You do that to me again and I’m leaving Cheerios. I swear Sue. I’m walking out and going to Figgen’s, but not before I tell everyone how much you care about your rankings and how little you care about who you have to stomp on to get them. See how many potential workers you have lining up at your door then.”  
  
 _“Finished?”_ She asks once Kurt pauses for breath.  
  
“That depends.”  
  
 _“You have my word. It won’t happen again.”_  
  
“Good. Anything else?”  
  
 _“And I.... apologize.”_  
  
“Apology accepted.” Kurt smiles triumphantly. “You can send the client around in an hour. In fact make it two. I may have fallen a _little_ behind on my beauty regime. He’ll need a jungle knife to reach my cock at this rate. It’s like the Amazon down there.”  
  
 _“Thanks for that imagery. Now I can’t stop thinking about you getting it on with George of the jungle.”_  
  
“And thank you,” Kurt adds at the last minute. “Thanks for sticking by me and giving me chance to work this out.”  
  
 _“Don’t thank me, ever, I mean that seriously because it makes me want to throw up. Thank the client who wrote you that fantastic new review.”_  
  
Kurt stares at the phone in confusion as she hangs up. What new review?  
  
Instead of getting ready for the client immediately, he grabs his laptop and loads up his webpage, scrolling down until he reaches his new reviews and finds the one Sue must be referring to.  
  
 _Porcelain is the kind of guy any man would be lucky to have. He’s smart, beautiful, witty and has a kind heart. Believe me when I say he knows exactly what he’s doing. Anyone looking for something rough or dangerous should go nowhere near him. Men looking for someone with class, who they can treat like a prince should look no further than Porcelain. I hope you all treat him with the respect he deserves. He’s one of my favorite people in the entire world; he’s the best.  
  
\- Anon_  
  
  
Kurt laughs. He laughs (because seriously what is that? It belongs in some 13 year old girl’s diary not on a public sex page) and then he cries because he can’t believe he knows someone who would be awesome enough to go out on a limb for him like that. Kurt reads it again and smiles.  
  
Yeah he does actually, he can believe it of someone; two someone’s.  
  
He doesn’t know whether it was Alex who wrote the review or Blaine but he honestly doesn’t care.  
Kurt Hummel is a prostitute and he has got friends- normal friends with ordinary jobs- that look out for him.  
  
He is humming as he gets ready to go back to work.


	10. He isn't you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaine tells the truth but is Kurt ready to hear

If you’re reading this and like Shane you know Kurt Hummel as he is now, then I imagine you’ve had quite a bit of shock. If you’re Shane then it never occurred to you that Kurt of all people could do the things he has done and it’s hard for you to understand how Blaine could come to be the Blaine you know with everything you now know about him.  
  
Despite a love for Moulin Rouge, no one actually wants to fall in love with a prostitute. No matter how politically correct and modern the world tries to be, nobody actually hopes that they or the people they love grow up to sell their bodies.  
  
The thought of Kurt doing such a thing should make Blaine sick, that’s a thought in your head. I know it is, and you are very correct. It did, it does, it always will- whether or not you want to argue that’s a product of social conditioning is beside the point. Blaine is who he is, a product of his upbringing and subject to his own heart.  
  
I know that you expect that now that Blaine knows, now that he has gotten over the initial shock and decided that he loves Kurt no matter what he does for a living, that things will be better for Kurt and you’re right. They will. But not in the way you’re thinking.  
  
You have to understand dear reader, that all of us reach a point in life where the people we love and whom love us cannot do for us what we must do for ourselves.  
  
But Blaine, being Blaine, certainly tries; as would any friend.  
  
There are some things you need to know about Blaine Anderson, and you need to know them to have any hope of understanding why he makes the choices he does in regards to learning his best friend is a prostitute.  
  
This has not been an easy thing for Blaine to accept despite his seemingly caring and patient attitude. It’s not that Blaine _doesn’t_ care or that he doesn’t wish to be patient; it’s more that though he might project the image of certainty or at least solidarity, he in actuality feels none of these things. In actuality he has been through more extreme emotions in the past month than he has been through in years (and that’s saying something because since Blaine met Kurt he has been through quite a few extremes).  
  
You know by now that Blaine grew up in a very loving family and you also know that he had a very privileged upbringing. Blaine has wanted for very little. There has always been someone to check under his bed for monsters, and someone older to tell the other kids to stop picking on him. He is the youngest and the only boy; his mother’s baby and his father’s pride.  
  
But life as you know is never perfect and if anything is astounding about the human experience of it, it is our unfailing ability to limit the full experience of life for ourselves and others. We are creatures who primarily wish to soar, who create feathers out of dreams (and in Blaine’s particular case music) but we are grounded by the fear that life must always end. Of course we then realize that the higher one soars the greater the fall at the finish.  
  
Blaine was once a little boy who loved his mother’s smile, the sound of his sister’s laughter, the touch of his father’s hands on his back. Discovering he might be gay, even getting picked on, was not the monster of his youth. The monster that plagued him was the specter of their faces stony and cold, their mouths shut and clenched, their hands withdrawn. Disappointment: a nightmare as simple as that was enough to make him sit plucking his feathers and refuse to fly.  
  
The pressure became too much however, and as always truth lets out. As you have seen, Blaine’s family not only accepted him but they uphold him proudly; but fears even unfounded have great power. A lifetime habit is hard to break and when Blaine moved to the city for school at 18 he was still grounded. He loved music, but there are words like legacy and inheritance attached to his name that cannot be ignored. He was full of dreams, but equally full of fears.  
  
And then someone touched his arm, called for his attention, and he turned. When Blaine Anderson saw Kurt Hummel for the first time he was yanked off the ground and propelled into the air with wings that weren’t ready to bear his weight. Since then he has alternately soared and crashed to earth. But always he has had Kurt, who seems to be made of sky and high places, to blaze over his head like a sun that says ‘come on reach again’.  
And so Blaine reaches.  
  
It’s not always thought out and it’s not always particularly well done, but it is wholly necessary. And now, now Kurt is the one stuck to earth plucking his wings for whatever reasons he deems worthy enough and nothing is more important to Blaine than reaching him.  
  
So this is not thought out, and no, it’s not going to be well done at all. But I assure you. It’s wholly necessary.  
  
It’s a Saturday afternoon and they’re in sports bar because the 2018 World cup is in full swing and the American team is still in the running and David insisted he couldn’t watch their match against Spain without plenty of support and beer. Kurt is there because he likes spending time with Blaine, and because it’s not often David is in town anymore and it’s even rarer that Wes is at the same time; so here he is.  
  
While the others are indulging in their beer and hotwings and the conversation has gotten a little too heavily soccer for Kurt’s tastes he takes a moment to whip out his new phone and text Mercedes. He feels bad that he hasn’t kept up with their old friends the same way Blaine has and has been making a point to do that lately.  
  
“You get a new phone?” Blaine asks over the dull roar of fans in the bar.  
  
“A client gave it to me,” Kurt shouts back, causing Blaine to cast nervous eyes at Wes and David who have gotten into some sort of argument over the game. Kurt rolls his eyes. “I said a client Blaine. They don’t know what sort of client I mean! He could be a business associate. Look, no one cares anyway! I don’t get it but apparently this game is a big deal. No one’s listening to us, they couldn’t care less!”  
  
To emphasis his point Kurt sits up in his chair and waves his arms.  
“Hey everyone!” He shouts cheery as a Sunday morning. “Just to let you all know. I have sex for money! So if anyone wants a go, holler at me.”  
  
David and Wes quit arguing long enough to inform him that they might take him up on his offer if either of them were gay, because apparently they are going to have a lot of money to blow once the other has to pay up when their team of choice flounces the other. And just like that argument back on.  
  
Kurt rolls his eyes and smirks at Blaine triumphantly, not one single other person even turned their gaze away from the match, much less called him on it. Luckily Blaine seems to see the funny side.  
  
“Forget brazen, they need to invent a whole other word for you,” Blaine chuckles as he tucks into his hot wings. He has consumed at least four plates full. Sometimes Kurt wonders how they’re friends. “That phone though looks seriously expensive. You must be pretty good at your job for him to just _give_ you something like that.”  
  
“Blaine. You of all people know that I’m no slacker in the sack, but I’m always willing to hold a demonstration. You can be my boy toy.” Kurt bats his eyes in Blaine’s direction but it’s more for David and Wes who get adorably unsettled when they are extra flirty together.  
  
“Those days are over my friend,” Blaine answers with a wink as Wes groans and David rolls his eyes.  
  
“Do you think Wes, that we’ll just spend the rest of our lives telling these two to get a room?” David asks.  
  
“I’m trying to ignore them so I don’t have to feel bad for suddenly throwing up all over your lap,” Wes replies.  
  
“Hey! Why _my_ lap?” David scoots away from Wes and Blaine chuckles into his beer. Kurt sighs fondly at the two of them as they dive back into another pointless argument. He on the other hand, he has an actual problem on his hands.  
  
“Actually, I’m only half joking about the boy toy thing; at this rate I’m going to need you to come on board,” Kurt remarks. The look of bewilderment on Blaine’s face indicates that he needs to elaborate. Kurt beckons to him and Blaine scoots closer and lowering his voice Kurt continues. “I need to find a partner for this appointment I’ve got coming up; this couple wants two escorts for a foursome.”  
  
“No other cheerios available?”  
  
“Oh no, not after last time.” Kurt answers with vehemence. He’s not looking for another Brian/Victor fiasco. “Whenever I work with one of Sue’s boys it ends badly. This time I’m finding my own partner. Which is easier said than done.”  
  
Blaine blinks at him as he takes in his words. It might be the beer he has consumed, or the fact that they're having a whispered conversation about foursomes, but his face is slightly flushed and his hazel eyes are very bright. Kurt wants to touch him but he resists. He can’t help leaning in a little though, Blaine has beautiful eyes and he likes the way they look up close especially.  
  
“Why, who wouldn’t want to sleep with you?” Kurt blushes at the compliment, and really he’s a prostitute, a simple thing like that shouldn’t make him blush. Blaine goes on though, “there are tons of independent male escorts, I’ve seen for myself.”  
  
He quickly explains himself when Kurt raises his eyebrows in question. “I care about you Kurt. You don’t think I didn’t do all the research I could for myself about what you’re doing? Never realized how rife it was, my eyes have certainly been opened.”  
  
“Yeah well the thing is a lot of these independent escorts are independent for a reason – no agency will take them on. They get their moms to take a few pictures of them in the garden, post them on the Internet and think they’re going to get paid to sleep around. One particular guy when asked what he feels he brings to a client’s experience answered ’10 inches!’”  
  
“It would work for me.” Blaine shrugs.  
  
“Excuse me?” Kurt almost chokes on his drink as he sips. “This coming from the guy who cried the first time I got him to bottom?”  
  
“Okay first, you were only the third guy I’d ever been with, and none of my other experiences were all that kinky.” Blaine responds somewhat defensively.  
  
“You think bottoming is kinky? Really?” Kurt can’t keep the smile off his face though he seriously hopes Blaine isn’t serious.  
  
“I wasn’t done. All I mean is I’d barely just gotten the swing of topping and then there was you, tearing my clothes and bending me over. I loved it but it was all really fast and kind of explosive...and really good. Really really good.” Blaine repeats and the way his lips wrap around his beer is making Kurt’s pants a lot less comfortable.  
  
“I made you cry Blaine, and it freaked me out.”  
  
“I was 21, and I’d just been screwed rather fantastically into a mattress by my best friend. I was a little over emotional,” Blaine responds with a shrug. “They were good tears, but regardless, I’m not that kid anymore. People grow up. I could be your partner Kurt.”  
  
It takes him a few moments to realize that Blaine isn’t joking, that he’s drinking to bolster his courage; and just like that Kurt feels the floor drop from beneath him.  
“What?! No! Absolutely not! Are you....are you nuts! I can’t believe you’ve just asked me that!”  
  
“Come on you said you’re short of a partner.”  
  
“Well I wasn’t asking you to volunteer! It was a joke, I was just thinking aloud, telling you my problems like you wanted.” Kurt shakes his head in disbelief.  
  
This...this isn’t happening; isn’t going to happen. Blaine, stupid sweet Blaine, is obviously trying to understand his world and as always he goes above and beyond the call of duty. Kurt can’t let him this time. He can’t imagine Blaine waiting for men like Victor, or even worse men like Yusef and Jason, waiting to let them use him like he’s...no.  
It’s just no!  
  
“Well now it’s not a problem,” Blaine answers like everything is simple and easily solved with a little thought and logic.  
  
“Blaine this is a job, a job you clearly have issues with not….I don’t know, amateur gang bang night!”  
  
“I can handle it. I keep telling you, people grow. I enjoy sex as much as you do you know,” Blaine argues.  
  
“Not professionally. What is it you think I do at work? Take the money and spread my legs?”  
  
“No, I would think there’d be some other stuff in there too” Blaine laughs dryly, and Kurt has the sudden urge to hit him. How can he be so cavalier about this?  
  
“This isn’t a joke Blaine! You have no idea what you’re asking for!”  
  
“So show me, come on it makes perfect sense.”  
  
“Perfect _what_?” Kurt practically hisses. “No, Blaine. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense!”  
  
“For me or for you Kurt?” Blaine asks and Kurt has never been slapped with words before but he thinks maybe now he understands what people might mean when they say they have. Blaine’s eyes are slicing through him. “Because I don’t get it, Kurt. Explain to me how it made sense for you to get into this business and how it doesn’t make sense for me?”  
  
Kurt hates Blaine a little then. He’s not stupid. He can see what this is, and he knows that Blaine doesn’t expect him to call his bluff.  
  
“How about this for a reason, you’re about to get married!” Kurt hopes the words are as much of a slap to Blaine as Blaine’s were to him. How _dare_ he try something like this when he promised to try and accept him as he is.  
  
Kurt feels tricked, pushed into a corner. He can’t explain why he’s okay with his job, and it’s not okay for Blaine at the same time and he doesn’t want to think about why.  
  
Blaine glances over at Wes and David who are still watching the game. They’re eyeing Kurt and Blaine curiously ever now and again but it’s too loud in the bar for them to hear their whispered conversation. It must look as intense as it feels because neither one makes a move to join the conversation.  
  
“Why does it matter why I want to do it?” Blaine asks, pushing the point, pushing Kurt to either call him out or accept the fact that there might be something wrong with what he does.  
  
“It matters because it’s my _job_ ; I have to think about my reputation. That’s the point. I don’t work with just anyone.”  
  
The look Blaine gives him at that comment makes Kurt feel like he has just kicked a puppy with three legs.  
  
“Since when was I just anyone?”  
  
****************************  
  
The following day Kurt is enjoying a perfect lazy Sunday, or at least he would be if he could stop thinking about his pressing need to find a partner, and the argument he’d had with Blaine.  
  
And here’s the thing that pisses Kurt off the most. He can’t even be properly mad because Blaine has issued the challenge, thrown the gauntlet, and unless Kurt can meet it he has no right to be angry at anyone but himself.  
  
He needs a partner, Blaine is offering, and yeah he’s an virgin as far as escorting goes but don’t they all come in as angels?  
  
Holy hell. He is rationalizing this. He is rationalizing letting his best friend sleep with him and two strangers for money! Kurt feels sick.  
  
Why does he feel sick? What’s to be sick about? It’s not even like he’d be having sex with a stranger. The couple wants another couple, basically another pair of make out buddies to give the sex more of an edge, so Blaine might not even have to touch anyone other than Kurt who he has already touched many times before....  
  
But this is Blaine. _His_ Blaine. He doesn’t want this for him, doesn’t want him doing things that will haunt him later and hurt him in places he doesn’t even realize. And it will. Blaine is engaged, building a life with someone- or at least trying to- but he’s also trying to hold on to Kurt and... and...it’s like quick sand.  
Brian’s words come back to him then and he shivers.  
  
No. He needs to stop being so melodramatic. The answer is still no, but not because he doesn’t believe Blaine couldn’t do a fantastic job. He could, he’s so sexy and giving he’d be wonderful, but it’s a foursome and Blaine has a hard time sharing for one thing and more importantly Blaine is engaged. He shouldn’t be putting that on the line just because he’s a moron with a hero complex.  
  
Kurt feels a lot better once he makes up his mind. And once Blaine accepts that, he’s going to tell him just what he thinks of his efforts to accept him. They’re shit if tricks like this are his idea of acceptance.  
  
When the buzzer sounds it’s not all that much of a surprise.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Hi, my name’s Blaine Anderson, I’m here about the job.”  
  
Kurt sighs in irritation; once Blaine gets a notion in his head (whether it’s insane or not) he runs with it until he either crashes or soars. Kurt thinks this can only be a crash and burn scenario. He presses the button and tells Blaine to come up.  
  
Kurt can’t help but laugh as Blaine enters his apartment; he’s wearing a suit and everything. The laughter shorts as the thought passes through his mind that this is just the way he looked that first time interviewing with Sue. Handsome, young, so certain he had every idea of what he was getting into.  
  
“I was just wondering if you could give me a few more details about the vacancy,” Blaine says seriously as he sits down on a chair opposite the couch.  
  
“Why don’t you tell me what you already know?” Kurt replies, quietly. He’ll play along for the time being. He has to, he needs the time to collect himself, to stave off the unexplainable feelings rolling around inside of him.  
  
“Only that it’s a foursome, and you’re short a partner.”  
  
“So, Blaine. Tell me what you think the job will entail?” This should be good. Blaine’s already proved that he has no idea what Kurt really does in an average day’s work.  
  
“Well…sex. Watching and being watched. I’m aware that it’s a very demanding position and that not everyone can do this kind of work.” Okay, not so bad an answer. Still, he’s glaringly naive.  
  
“The couple in question are first timers; just about to celebrate their fifteenth anniversary and they booked a couples date as a gift to each other.” Kurt explains. “So we could have two outcomes. Either they want a little mixer: a few shared kisses and then we get it on so they get hot and can get it on, or it could just be a straight swap. I’ll sleep with one of them and my partner will sleep with the other.”  
  
He watches Blaine’s expressions carefully but he is still, his thoughts guarded. Blaine nods to show he understands.  
  
“Are you currently involved with anyone?” Kurt asks. This is coming to a close now, he’ll make Blaine see that he can’t do this because of Jeremiah and it will be over.  
  
“I have a boyfriend, Jeremiah. In fact we recently got engaged.” Blaine doesn’t even flinch. He looks straight at Kurt and in response his heart starts to pound.  
  
“Riiiiight and don’t you think that’s a problem?”  
  
“In what way?” Blaine asks almost nonchalantly, and Kurt starts to get angry.  
  
“Well some people, just some, may think that someone who’s getting married shouldn’t be getting paid to have sex with another guy.”  
  
“Well, I think I can separate my sex life from my emotions. It will be a job, not a date,” Blaine replies pretty convincingly, and Kurt stares at him aghast. Who is this? This isn’t Blaine that’s for sure. He doesn’t know what stranger is sitting in front of him but he’s not sure he likes him.  
  
“Really?” Kurt’s tone drips sarcasm; his memories of Blaine suggest something to the contrary.  
  
“My best friend, he has got a similar thing you see; able to emotionally detach, keep things separate. My friend’s the reason I’m here. He needs my help and I want to give it. I want to understand him better, and I want him to understand that there is nothing I could see, nothing he could do that I would turn my back on. The client is just part of the job, he can’t touch anything important. It won’t mean I love my fiance` any less.”  
  
 _Bull shit_. Kurt wants to say it. He wants to scream it because Blaine is being so...Blaine! Wonderful, unbelievably kind, and completely blind. He can’t believe he’s taking it this far.  
  
Yes he can. Yes he can, because he’s Blaine and that’s what he does. Kurt would have been happy if he’d just continued being his friend, but no Blaine wants to see and touch and taste everything in Kurt’s world to show him that whatever it contains, be it sweet or sour, he will accept who Kurt is.  
  
It’s what he’d wanted, he’ll never stop loving Blaine for being willing to give it, but the price of it is so much heavier than he’d expected. This is not his thing to give, it’s too much. It’s the worker bees honey making frenzy, the last ditch effort to provide enough honey for the queen so that she might survive the winter.  
The frenzy that kills him.  
  
Kurt opens his mouth to tell him no, tell him that though the words are logical it’s still bull shit because Blaine doesn’t really believe them....  
  
Does _he_ even?  
  
Doesn’t he? Because if he does, then there is only one answer he can give. And if he doesn’t....then there’s no measuring the magnitude of the mess he has made of his own life.  
  
Kurt closes his mouth and blinks away the moisture trying to gather in his eyes.  
  
“Your….friend, he sounds...he sounds like a very smart boy,” Kurt says with a ghost of a smile. He prays a little- to that god he doesn’t believe in- that he’s right and what he’s doing won’t break them both. Blaine lets out his breath slowly and Kurt only just realizes then that he was holding it.  
  
Kurt can see the resignation in his eyes, then the nervousness, and then comes the honey. Blaine looks at him warmly, offering confidence and comfort with his gaze.  
  
“He is: smart, strong, sexy. Only sometimes he cuts his nose off to spite his face.”  
  
“Oh?” Kurt asks quietly. He feels like a bucket filled to the brim with nothing but unease.  
  
“Yeah. He overlooks things rather than facing them head on, pretends that if he ignores them they’ll just…disappear. So I want to help him out.”  
  
“Even if it hurts you?”  
  
“I’m aware of the consequences. I’ll handle them as they come.” Blaine certainly seems very sure of himself, and that smile of his… no one has a right to be that kind.  
  
“Well then maybe you should tell this best friend of yours that you’re about to become a part time prostitute,” Kurt relents finally with a sad smile. It feels funny on his face, and he’s pretty sure his lips are trembling because he can’t...he can’t put his head around what they’re doing.  
  
He doesn’t hear Blaine cross the room but he isn’t surprised when he slides into the spot next to him and wraps him up. Kurt doesn’t resist the embrace, in fact he clutches to Blaine as if he fears that in seconds he’ll burn up into ash or poof into smoke.  
  
“You should just remember Kurt that none of this changes who you are and how much I care about you, and it won’t change me either. I’ll still be Blaine, I’ll still have _me_ when this is done.”  
  
Kurt knows that. The problem is he can’t say the same of himself.  
Blaine called his bluff, whether he wants to admit it or not. He has no idea where the Kurt he thought he knew is, or even how long he has been missing.  
  
*******************************  
  
The night of the foursome Blaine meets Kurt at his place. Once Kurt is satisfied that Blaine is groomed to Sue’s standards Kurt gets him dressed, black jeans, purple V-neck because he loves what purple does for Blaine. It really suits him and he looks quite the part; Kurt’s a genius. He feels like Michael Caine in Miss. Congeniality. He wishes he could stop being so nervous and enjoy it. Blaine’s right, he isn’t made of glass. One night isn’t going to break him, and he should stop being such a god damn drama queen because hasn’t he always said that what he does is no big deal?  
  
“There you go, steady your nerves.” Kurt passes him a tumbler as he sits, just waiting.  
  
“Vodka?” Blaine sniffs the glass, pulling a funny face. Kurt has pulled out the big guns. He needs it. And by the way Blaine tosses it back Kurt thinks he needs it too.  
  
“It’s all you’re getting,” he instructs in no uncertain terms. “Otherwise the clients will smell it on your breath.”  
  
“Remind me why we have to pretend to be a couple again?”  
  
“Because I’m the professional and I say so. It just plays out better that way.” Kurt responds but he’s only honestly half listening; the clients are already on their way and he and Blaine are still not ready. It would help if he didn’t have to stop every few seconds to answer Blaine’s ridiculous number of questions. Then again he would rather Blaine asked now than when the clients arrive.  
  
“Right, condoms.” Kurt grabs the bag that he’d picked up from the store earlier to fill the bowl by the bed. He wills his nerves to calm. He can’t remember being this uneasy since his very first appointment.  
  
“So do I need a pseudonym or something?” Blaine asks.  
  
“No. This is your one and only time,” Kurt reminds him. The _only_ time. “It’s not going to become a regular occurrence, and besides you don’t look like anything other than a Blaine.”  
  
“Kurt...what if I don’t like him?” Blaine asks almost as an afterthought.  
  
“You don’t let it matter.”  
  
“But what if he’s ugly, or mean?”  
  
“So what? When that doorbell rings whatever’s on the other side, we smile. It’s our job.” Kurt reminds him pointedly. “I’m not attracted to half the men I sleep with, but I look at them and think ‘I could have some fun.’” Kurt explains, hoping he understands.  
  
“But how do you....how do you get past knowing....I mean the fact that it’s a total stranger?” Blaine asks and the way he stumbles over his words indicates that he’s more nervous than he’s letting on.  
  
Kurt sits down next to him, so close that their legs are touching, and looks him straight in the eye. “If you aren’t 100% sure that you want to do this then it’s not too late to back out. I can call the couple and rearrange for another day once I’ve found a different partner. You don’t have to prove anything to me Blaine. I...I realize it doesn’t make any sense, but I don’t want you to live the way I do.”  
  
“Kurt. It’s okay. I’m scared I’ll admit it, but I’m not just trying to prove a point. You should definitely think about it though; why you don’t want me to live like you.” Blaine smiles at him and strokes the side of his face. “I promised you I’d accept you, and I realize that I haven’t delivered on that. I haven’t been able to look at you without being angry you would make this choice. I want to understand the choice, and I want you to know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help you, to be with you when you need me. Even climb off my high horse.”  
  
Kurt hugs him. He holds Blaine to him and breathes him in. He’s an idiot. He’s brilliant. He’s Blaine and Kurt is in love with him, and they should really talk about the fact that Blaine absolutely sucks at not being in love with him and being in love with Jeremiah, but not right now.  
  
“We’re both insane. But you shouldn’t be scared. You’re gonna be great, I just know that.”  
  
“What makes you so sure?” Blaine asks.  
  
“Because I know you and I know how you make people feel. When we were together I was going through a real crap time, but with you it didn’t matter how shit my job was, or if I looked awful, you made it all feel better. You still do. You know how to make people feel good, Blaine. It’s one of your gifts.”  
  
Blaine smiles knowingly back at Kurt and his heart flutters. The moment however is lost when the buzzer goes. Blaine takes a deep breath and stands up.  
  
“The moment has arrived,” Kurt whispers with mock mystery, kissing Blaine’s cheek before straightening his clothes and going to answer the door, smiling widely just like always. Luckily they don’t need to worry about running into anyone ugly or mean. The pair outside the door is highly attractive, and they appear friendly enough.  
  
“Hello, come in. It’s Carl and…” Kurt falters.  
  
“Greg.” The shorter man fills in with a smile.  
  
“I’m Porcelain and this is my partner Blaine.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you both. Can I take your coats?” Thankfully his earlier nerves seem to have all but disappeared and Blaine now appears confident and charming, like he has been doing this for years. Blaine’s ability to adapt never fails to astound Kurt.  
  
As Blaine hangs up their jackets Kurt leads them into the living room and invites them to sit down. He sees Carl remove a packet of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping the top idly with his lighter.  
  
“Oh thanks,” he smiles as Kurt passes him an ashtray. He doesn’t smoke himself but he always keeps one on hand. “I wasn’t sure, not many places you can these days.”  
  
“Well this is somewhere where you most definitely can.” Kurt reassures with a beaming grin. “Can I get anyone a drink, champagne maybe seeing as we’re celebrating?”  
  
“Oh yes, please. Fifteen years, I can hardly believe it sometimes” Greg gushes, taking Carl’s hand in his; it’s really sweet to see. In Kurt’s line of work he rarely gets to see happy couples.  
  
“We’ve only been married for three.” Carl explains. “But we’ve been together since we were twenty one.” The two men beam at each other, so obviously in love Kurt almost feels like he’s intruding on something private. Kurt can’t help but think about him and Blaine. They’d been twenty one when they got together.  
  
“Wow that’s quite an achievement. Not quite there yet are we honey?” Kurt turns to Blaine as he returns and sits down next to him. “We’ve got five years though.” If things had been different, Kurt thinks wistfully. They could have been together for five years...and counting.  
  
Greg’s eyebrows rise in apparent surprise. “Oh so you two are a….I mean, are you together? We weren’t sure if you’d be a real couple. I have to admit it’s a relief. Carl and I have never done anything like this before.”  
  
“We met in college,” Blaine offers with a smile and Kurt smiles back.  
  
“Get out. So did Greg and I” Carl seems delighted by the coincidence. “He was a student worker at one of the grills and I’d see him every day when I’d go get my lunch.”  
  
“I was lost the first day of class,” Kurt says smiling at the memory. “I grabbed the first guy that passed me and it turned out that Blaine and I had the same class together.”  
  
“Fate huh?” Greg laughs “So was it love at first sight or...?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Blaine replies and he squeezes Kurt’s hand as he says it. And yes they’re playing a part but it feels real, and Kurt doesn’t know how to handle that.  
  
“We were children. We hardly knew the meaning of the word. But we got it later on though, and that miracle alone deserves a toast. I’ll go get that champagne.” Kurt smoothly changes the subject as he stands up and goes to the kitchen. Blaine follows him a few moments later.  
  
“I got the cash,” he whispers in Kurt’s ear triumphantly.  
  
“Oh god you didn’t ask for it did you?!” Kurt cringes in horror, what was he thinking leaving Blaine alone with them?  
  
“Of course not,” Blaine answers indignantly. “They gave me it. Jesus, Kurt I know I’m the amateur here but please give me a little credit!”  
  
“Okay, sorry. Look, I’ll take them the drinks; you count it just to make sure. Should be four hundred dollars, not a penny less.”  
  
Kurt leaves Blaine to do as he’s told as he offers Carl and Greg the flutes of champagne, all the while smiling sweetly. “As we haven’t spoken before it’d be great to know if there was something specific you wanted? You know in regards to how we’d spend our time together?”  
  
They look between each other, fidgeting nervously before Carl finally speaks. “We haven’t really discussed it that much; we just thought we’d play it by ear.”  
  
“That’s fine we can do that.” Kurt reassures them. Normally he likes to have at least a little idea about what he’s getting himself into but there’s no point making them uncomfortable, once he gets them into the bedroom he’ll work something out. “Why don’t you two have a shower while Blaine and I get everything ready?”  
  
“So how am I doing?” Blaine asks as the pair of them head into the bedroom.  
  
“Beautifully. We’re gonna be fine, just relax, I need to get changed,” he whispers hastily once he hears the shower running, jogging quickly to his walk-in wardrobe.  
  
“Why? You look great.”  
  
“Not this, my underwear. This isn’t right for them, it’s a little too hardcore. These guys are a couple of wide eyed honeymooners wanting to do something a little wild, not quite what I was picturing.” Kurt gestures to the patent leather thong he’s wearing as he pulls off his trousers. He opens his underwear drawer and grabs a pair of white, silk boxers and a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs, before turning back to Blaine, holding one pair in each hand.  
  
“Which ones?”  
  
Blaine does not answer immediately. He seems to have frozen in place. It’s then that Kurt realizes he’s standing pantsless in front of Blaine for the first time in years, and pretty soon they are both going to be naked and....  
  
Holy sweet mother of god. What _are_ they doing?  
  
Blaine shakes his head like it’s wet and nods towards the Calvins. Kurt has to laugh at that and he relaxes somewhat.  
  
“I can see that _your_ tastes haven't changed."  
  
“That’s not all that hasn’t changed,” Blaine remarks, and his voice is rough in a way that is quickly going to make Kurt embarrass them both if he doesn’t get a hold on himself. But it’s hard because the look that crosses Blaine’s face as he refamiliarizes himself with Kurt’s naked body is nothing short of awestruck. And lustful... yeah definitely lustful. There’s so much heat in his eyes that Kurt’s heart is pounding again and he’s worried he’s just going to melt into the floor boards.  
  
Bad idea when you’re with your best friend who’s an engaged man. Who’s about to have sex with you in front of two strangers. How the hell have they ended up here again?  
  
“Blaine. Focus.” Finally Blaine’s eyes leave Kurt’s body and return to his face.” Clothes off!” Kurt instructs sharply. He needs to keep this in perspective. It’s business, just business and he should handle it that way. In fact he should be doing everything in his ability to make the best of this ridiculously stupid thing they’ve both gotten themselves into, and keep Blaine from doing something he’s going to hate himself for later.  
  
That gets a lot harder as he watches Blaine strip down to his underwear. Good intentions seem to scatter when he can see nearly all of Blaine’s beautiful skin: the veins in his hands as he clenches them nervously, the way his muscle's move beneath his skin as he shifts from foot to foot, the way hair dusts the back of his arms and legs, the way it trails down his chest and disappears into his boxer briefs.  
  
Kurt’s finding it hard to breathe let alone think.  
  
He’s brought back to the problem at hand as they both hear the shower stop. He quickly arranges Blaine into position; he sits on the edge of the bed and encourages Blaine to kneel on the bed behind him, and he shivers as Blaine lays a hand on his shoulder. Kurt can feel the slight tremble going through his arm but the reassuring squeeze is something they both need. He reaches up and pats Blaine’s arm.  
  
He won’t let this get out of hand, Kurt decides. However they got here he’ll make sure it works out.  
  
A few minutes later they hear the bathroom door open and simultaneous giggling, then footsteps until Greg and Carl arrive in the bedroom, stripped down to their boxers and holding hands.  
  
Kurt climbs confidentially (more confidently than he feels) from the bed and pushes Carl back into the chair, motioning for Blaine to take Greg’s hand. It needs to be this way. Of the two of them Greg seems much more nervous and probably wants someone else to take the lead, therefore he’s more likely to want to bottom which Kurt knows Blaine would be more comfortable with. He could be wrong; Greg could be a rampant top, but Kurt needs to make a decision for their sake and for Blaine’s.  
  
He knows Blaine would be most comfortable if Kurt were his partner, he can see the surprise in his eyes, but that would be a bad idea in a string of very bad ideas. There is no way they can have sex together and have it be impersonal.  
  
Just no way. And yes he wants Blaine, he really _really_ wants him, but odd as it is, Blaine can forgive himself for prostituting for a night if it means helping Kurt but he won’t handle the emotional fall out of sleeping with Kurt period (never mind the mind bending circumstance) nearly as well.  
  
Besides they are supposed to be getting over each other. Blaine is getting married this winter. He wonders again just what the hell they think they’re doing.  
  
Blaine nods in understanding and takes Greg’s hand and Kurt tries to smile and mean it. He’s not sure what is about to happen. But here goes nothing. He takes a deep breath and prays a little.  
  
“Why don’t you sit back and watch while Blaine and Greg have a little play” he whispers in Carl’s ear seductively.  
  
Carl pulls Kurt down on top of him, so that Kurt is straddling his lap as he sticks his hand down the back of Kurt’s underwear, squeezing gently. Kurt looks over the man’s shoulder into the mirror behind him, to see Blaine and Greg blushing at each other as Blaine eases Greg back onto the bed before lying down on top of him. Kurt sees the deep breath he takes, he sees the way Blaine looks at him one last time as if memorizing the way Kurt looks before closing his eyes and leaning down to cover Greg’s lips with his.  
  
It is a strange feeling, knowing that Blaine is thinking of him. Kurt can’t take his eyes off of him, can’t understand the gravity of what is happening around him, or how it is that he imagines he can almost feel Blaine’s lips sliding sensually over his. His eyes drift shut of their own accord as breathing gets harder.  
  
Kurt’s eyes open as hands thread into his hair. He turns his attention back to Carl as Carl pulls him into a kiss. As he eases Kurt’s boxers down his legs he can feel Carl rapidly hardening, and the other man moans as Kurt grinds gently on top of him.  
  
“What do you want to do to me?” He enquires huskily. When Carl doesn’t answer Kurt looks up at the handsome face in question, only Carl isn’t looking at him at all. All of his attention is on his lover over on the bed with Blaine. In fact he shifts Kurt in his lap to get a better view. Kurt can’t say he minds, he can’t say _what_ he feels past the pounding of his heart and the blood rushing in his ears.  
  
He doesn’t know what is happening or why it’s so different from what he normally does but he can only agree with Carl when he growls, “he’s so fucking beautiful.”  
  
Blaine is. Kurt watches the movement of his hands as he maps Greg’s pale skin, the way his teeth play with the lobe of his ear, the way his tongue darts out to play hop scotch on the other man’s freckles as he kisses his cheeks.  
  
Kurt understands the look on Carl’s face as he watches Greg pant and arch into Blaine’s touch. Lust, with a healthy dose of jealousy. As Greg strips off the remainder of Blaine’s clothes, Kurt has to admit that he feels the same.  
  
Carl tries to turn his attention back to Kurt, bending down to suckle at his neck, but as Blaine and Greg’s collective moans reach his ears he’s completely lost. He smiles at Kurt almost apologetically and Kurt smiles back in understanding. Kurt climbs from his lap and leads him to the bed.  
He understands completely.  
  
By this point Greg is lying on his back with his legs thrown open as Blaine places soft, open mouthed kisses down his torso, gradually getting lower and lower. Kurt wonders if Blaine has opened his eyes once, and he wonders if he’ll always remember this moment as the moment he knew he was in love with Blaine and that there just is no getting over him.  
  
Carl crawls up next to Greg, kissing him with as much passion as he had kissed Kurt, but the difference is that this time there’s love there as well. Carl rolls Greg onto his side, and then beneath him as their kisses become deeper and more passionate, effectively shutting out the rest of the world and Greg’s legs open automatically to accommodate Carl’s body, his nails dragging up and down the taller man’s back.  
  
Kurt approaches the other side of the bed quietly and lays a hand on Blaine’s shoulder.  
“Blaine” he whispers, and at the sound of his voice Blaine opens his eyes slowly as if coming out of a dream.  
  
“Wow.” Blaine’s voice is hoarse and breathy and Kurt can tell he’s shaken. Kurt understands; he’s shaken too. His body seems to be a mass of sensitive nerve ends, he’s painfully hard, and he’s sure his own eyes are as wide and blown as Blaine’s are.  
  
Kurt and Blaine lay next to each other and by the way they can only seem to look at each other you wouldn’t think there was anyone else in the room, let alone two other men vigorously making love.  
  
Later both Carl and Greg express their gratitude vehemently, shaking both their hands, which is probably too impersonal considering they’ve just watched them screw each other’s brains out.  
  
“Thank you, thank you so much.”  
  
“Don’t thank us you two were _amazing_!” Kurt praises honestly. “You didn’t need us at all. You’re clearly still crazy about each other. I hope we’re still like you guys after fifteen years.”  
  
“We don’t do so badly, do we?” Carl asks rhetorically, turning to kiss Greg’s lips as Blaine passes them their jackets. They both smile fondly at the couples open display of affection, but Kurt’s smile fades as the thought comes unbidden _‘could we be like that one day’_? At the moment he really doesn’t know, in fact he’s not even sure what they _are_ to each other after tonight; more than best friends but not quite lovers, stranded in no man’s land.  
  
Again.  
  
Kurt turns to Blaine after he has shown the clients out. He has got that pensive look on his face. Kurt sits on the couch, his thoughts racing. Blaine comes and sits beside him, and they sit in silence. Kurt alternately yells at himself internally and catches himself wishing. He wants... _Blaine_ , yes he wants Blaine so badly and he doesn’t know what to do because he doesn’t know how to make love last forever, and…. and Blaine is engaged for god’s sake!  
  
“You were thinking of me. I know you were,” Kurt whispers and Blaine nods. “Why, Blaine? Why...why are we here right now. Doing this?”  
  
“I don’t...I don’t know...I guess I didn’t think it would go this far. But I knew if it did, that I just wanted you to know that I don’t care what mistakes you make, or who you think you are. I love you.”  
  
They stare at each other intently, breathing hard. The moment is bare, without pretenses and without any illusions as to what it is or isn’t. Blaine has landed here because he’s in love with Kurt.  
  
All Kurt can manage in response is a nod and he allows Blaine to rest his head on his shoulder when it drops there. He just has to breathe, just breathe, they can figure out how to undo all this in the morning. They will shut all these doors and move forward at some other point. Right now they should just breathe.  
  
Blaine shifts his position, resting his hand on Kurt’s naked thigh beneath his robe. Kurt’s legs seem to fall apart of their own violation as his hand creeps higher. God he has missed this; he has always loved Blaine’s hands, so strong and powerful but gentle at the same time. Blaine breaths his name into the space between Kurt’s neck and shoulder and his breath hitches.  
  
The tense moment snaps and then Blaine finally pulls Kurt in for a kiss, and Kurt gives in opening legs, mouth, and heart, all of it wide. He draws Blaine in, needing him _inside_ and it’s a yearning so deep it goes through him and right out the back.  
  
Kurt’s back hits the couch cushions and then Blaine is on top of him and they’re shedding robes, and reaching for skin greedily as their lips slide over bared skin.  
  
Blaine groans and it sounds like music, the pounding of Kurt’s heart a drum beat as he arches up and Blaine grinds down; as their hard cocks meet they gasp into each other’s mouths.  
  
And just like that it hits him that they’re naked, and then he remembers where they are and what they’re doing, and he doesn’t want it anymore.  
At least not like this.  
  
Not when Blaine is engaged, not when he’s still made up like a whore and Jeremiah is waiting for Blaine at home like Victor’s wife.  
  
And suddenly all Kurt can feel is sick.  
  
He breaks away from Blaine, turning his head to the side when Blaine tries to pull him back in. Kurt feels so ill he could throw up. He thrashes against Blaine, against the thought that Blaine could be like Victor fucking with a prostitute while his woman waits at home, against the thought that he has allowed this to happen because he couldn’t say no; against the way that something that should be so right between them suddenly feels dirty.  
  
“Kurt, stop. Stop! What’s wrong?” Blaine catches his thrashing arms, pleading with him gently. Kurt swings wildly for a moment more, blind to anything but the sickness rolling around inside and the need to push it all back and make it go away. Blaine gets a hold of his wrists and in a split second the panic attack seems to abate, leaving behind it nothing but emptiness and fear.  
  
Kurt chokes on a sob and then grabs Blaine’s shoulders and holds on for dear life, trembling like a leaf with silent tears pouring down his face. Blaine pulls him close until there’s no space between them and Kurt can feel the way shudders are rolling through him as he says “I shouldn’t be here. God what am I doing? I’m sorry...I’m so sorry Kurt.”  
  
“It’s Porcelain, remember?” Kurt whispers woodenly. He sits up and he slowly eases away from Blaine. “I’m a prostitute Blaine, and you’re about to sleep with me when there’s someone waiting for you.”  
  
“No,Kurt. I want to sleep with you. Being a prostitute is your _job_ , one I think you should quit, and it’s certainly not who you are.” Blaine insists.  
  
“Do you remember who, _you_ are? You’re engaged Blaine. You want to get married, and you want to buy a little house somewhere, and you said those things were not things you were willing to give up on. Has that changed?”  
  
Blaine opens and then closes his mouth, clenching his hands as he struggles with himself. Kurt can see guilt in his eyes, which he’d expected. But what he hasn’t anticipated is the way Blaine looks heavenward as if asking some deity for forgiveness and then sighs as if he’s giving up on juggling it all and holding it together.  
  
“This can’t get much worse so let’s just be brave about it and be honest. I’m in love with you, Kurt.” Blaine cups his jaw and presses his lips to his temple, murmuring the words into his skin. “So, so, much. I have been since the day I met you.”  
  
“But Jeremiah-“  
  
“Isn’t you.” Blaine insists. “I don’t care about being good or fair right now because god Kurt, you’re right in front of me. I can’t… I want so much.”  
  
“I know,” Kurt turns into the touch, nuzzling his cheek against the soft skin of Blaine’s jaw. He breathes in his scent; he rubs against the slightly abrasive feel of five o’clock shadow peppering his cheeks. He takes a shuddering breath, thinks he feels a tear slip between their cheeks and he doesn’t know which of them it belongs to.  
  
“I know, I know” he presses three kisses soft and quick to Blaine’s cheek before forcing himself to lean back and turn away. “But we’re different people you and I. Let’s be practical. You want steady and dependable, you want forever and that hasn’t changed.”  
  
Blaine takes Kurt’s hands in his. “I do want those things, they’re important to me, but I want them with you, and that’s the truth. I’m asking you Kurt, do you think you could ever want them with me?”  
  
Kurt knows that at this moment, if he leaned forward and kissed Blaine that all the yearning would be over. That Blaine would be his again, that he would not have to watch him marry someone completely wrong for him, that maybe come winter it could be their wedding they plan.  
  
You should know that he wants to. He wants to more than anything. But you should also know that human beings are contrary creatures. You see we so long to soar, but every great height is accompanied by an even greater fall, and some people would rather pluck their feathers than risk ever leaving the ground.


	11. Shipwreck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurt takes some time to forget about love and focus on his career and realizes some stars are better left at a distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: some domestic battering in this portion that may be triggering. It's light, if such a thing can be made light of, but please take care, know your limits and read with caution.

Kurt Hummel has spent two weeks thinking about bees. Ever since he caught that afternoon special on honey bees he has thought about bees, the workers and the queens, and ever since his run with Blaine, Kurt has thought about him and Blaine and the strange relationship they have to each other.  
  
He remembers Blaine telling him to get out of the hive, and though Blaine might have been joking at the time, he’s not now. Not now that he knows just what Kurt has gotten himself in to, now that he knows what voices Kurt has heard and believed and what bars he has allowed himself to be caged by.  
  
The problem is of course that Kurt does not want out of the hive. To understand what happens next you need to understand that Kurt has always wanted big things. Even as he plucks his wings and tosses the feathers asunder, nature will do as nature will do, it is in Kurt’s nature to want the things that glitter, the things in high places.  
  
It’s not about money, and not solely about fame-though recognition is essential to the process. Watch a bird soar or horses racing and perhaps you’ll understand. Kurt is made for moments such as those, things that catch the eye and hold the breath, and it is for this reason that things move around him. He is mother to the melody that makes the fingers move, the birth of an art all his own, a man of vision and seamless productivity. He is never not something to look at and wonder about; the queen bee.  
  
Bear with me one more moment as I explain about the bees. The bees are important and in a moment you will understand why. On that seemingly unimportant day when Kurt Hummel sat and watched a special on honey bees, he learned a rather interesting fact.  
  
Virgin queens, queens without a hive of their own (those special bees who have not yet matured, found their place, gathered their following and chosen a mate) are particularly hard to spot. Open a hive and the first thing you’ll see is workers and if you can dig (and survive the stinging) you might push through them and find the queen in the center of it all.  
  
What you’ll miss are the virgin queens, the queens waiting to launch, because these bees are hiders. They hide from each other- there is only room for one queen and when two virgins meet on any playing field it is a fight to the death- they hide from the workers-the virgin queen will not release the queen pheromone until she is the only queen in the hive or the only queen present in a swarm- because workers will kill any intruding threat to their queen. The virgin queen is safe only as long as the workers in her hive do not recognize her as a queen.  
  
Life isn’t easy for any of us busy bees, but queens have it hardest. The queen is both blessed and cursed with her difference. She will never have the luxury of blending in for long. For a time maybe she can blend in with the workers, but it is only ever for a time. Eventually a bolder virgin will find her or a worker will recognize her as a threat. And even if they don’t, what sort of a life will she have until she accepts her purpose and takes the risk of being seen for what she is? For the queen there is but one choice, to die alone in obscurity or to triumph.  
  
Kurt Hummel is a human being who is built for great things, and if the world is our hive then it has predictably not been kind. He has learned to hide for the sake of self-preservation, he has fought and maintained his own private corner, he has lived a half-life waiting for the day the world opens up and he can be all that he was meant to be. But nature will do what nature will do; human beings are creatures of habit. Human beings habitually limit themselves.  
  
The world has opened to him and Kurt is not ready to fly.  
  
********************************  
  
“Porcelain, can I say something?” Josh Groban asks from his place on the bed, reclining in post coital bliss as Kurt fixes them some drinks from the hotel mini-bar.  
  
“Of course,” Kurt looks over his shoulder and offers him a dazzling smile. The past two weeks have been good for Kurt. They had started off on a bad note. Telling your best friend once and for all that all you are never going to be more than friends is not a good way to start off _any_ week, but with so much more time on his hands Kurt has been able to focus on his work.  
  
It’s funny how a little thing like focus and determination can make something out of nothing. For quite a while now he has been struggling at work, and now that he and Blaine aren’t subconsciously trying to spend every waking moment together work has become the priority and he’s quite frankly kicking ass at it.  
  
Porcelain Ward is back on top again, reminding all the other cheerios just why he’s Sue’s star. He is getting all the best clients and reuniting with Josh is just the icing on the cake. No, it’s not perfect. He does miss Blaine after all, but it’s nearly so. And both he and Blaine had agreed (after some tears and drama) that as long as there is no future for them they need to back off each other, because seriously they are ridiculously bad at not being in love with each other.  
  
Kurt doesn’t want to settle down, doesn’t want to quit cheerios, and only vaguely knows if maybe one day he might want a full time boyfriend on top of it all (he and Alex are working on that _very_ slowly). Blaine on the other hand definitely wants to settle, wants him to quit cheerios, and definitely wants a full time boyfriend/someday husband out of Kurt, right this instant.  
  
Thus they are incompatible. The end.  
  
Kurt is focusing on his career again, and Blaine is focusing on his upcoming marriage. Hopefully come February he’ll actually be in love with the guy he’s standing at the alter with but you know, _whatever_.  
  
Kurt honestly doesn’t get it. He understands Blaine not wanting to spend his whole life pining, and the whole ‘I need to move on’ thing but why _Jeremiah_ , right now?  
  
He’s scowling he realizes, and it’s not an attractive look for him so he needs to stop thinking about Blaine so much.  
  
“I’m not a stranger to this, escorts I mean. In fact you could say that I’m an expert, I knew what you were the moment I bumped into you at that party. I think you’re pretty special.” Josh is saying and Kurt starts paying attention.  
  
“Thank you very much” Kurt grins as he joins him on the bed, handing him a glass of chardonnay. It’s something he has heard countless times before, but not many people or escorts get to hear it from the mouth of Josh Groban. “You’re not so bad yourself.”  
  
“Sue’s got herself a great agency, but I think you could take your career even further,” Josh goes on, his hand wandering up Kurt’s thigh. “Do you know of a company called Marionnette Divine?”  
  
Kurt nods his head slowly, resisting the urge to state the obvious. Every high class escort in the _world_ knows about Marionnette Divine. Unlike Cheerios they’re a worldwide agency, with male and female escorts working in New York, London, Paris, Berlin, Geneva, Monaco, and Milan. Kurt has heard through the grapevine that they’re currently working to set up in Beverly Hills. They are in short, the royalty of the escorting world.  
  
“Do you want to get nominated?” Josh asks enticingly. He laughs as Kurt’s mouth falls open in shock.  
  
“Seriously?”  
  
“Yes, seriously.” Josh grins, running his finger along Kurt’s lips. “You’ve got what it takes to be a courtesan, Kurt. Do you know that if you dig into the history behind the mates of the world’s most rich and powerful, half of them came through Marionnette Divine? Not to mention all the others who keep their courtesans on the side. I’d like to keep you Kurt if Marionnette Divine decides to take you on. I could set you up anywhere, and if not me then I’m sure others would fight to have you. You could go anywhere you wanted.”  
  
Kurt? Little Kurt Hummel from Lima has what it takes to be a courtesan with Marionnette Divine? Never. Kurt looks up at Josh as he pushes his shoulders, urging Kurt down until his mouth is level with his cock. But Porcelain Ward, now he just might have what it takes.  
  
**************************************  
  
You need to know this. So pay attention.  
  
Kurt’s a high class escort but there’s a whole other level above him: courtesans. They only have a few long term clients but they earn a fortune. They actually have waiting lists, and it’s a hell of a longer wait than anything Kurt can render now. Kurt really wants to be one, every escort wants to be one, but it’s not up to them. Marionnette Divine is an exclusive organization, they don’t take just anyone.  
  
Cheerios was always just the first step to bigger and better things for Kurt remember? You see Sue told him, as she tells all her new recruits, of the men and women who have infiltrated the world’s top places in entertainment, fashion, politics, you name it- simply by attaching themselves to the best in those industries. A skillful courtesan can get him or herself anywhere.  
  
It’s all inner run and to even be considered he has to be nominated by someone already _in_ their circle and then he has to audition and appear before the others. But before Kurt does any of that, he needs to speak to the one person who can give him an idea of what to expect. Sue: a prostitute’s answer to Wikipedia.  
  
“So, Marionnette Divine? You certainly _are_ doing well for yourself” Sue comments as they sit on her couch a few days later, a much more casual affair than their usual weekly meetings.  
  
“So it’s really worth all the hype?”  
  
“I was nominated to be a marionette myself, would have taken it too, but I was ready to start my own agency. Sue Sylvester is her own agent. You Porcelain, when I saw you I thought ‘there’s a loser with potential’. I could make him a winner. If Josh’s willing to nominate you then he must believe you have what it takes too, he’d look like a fool otherwise. But Josh alone isn’t enough; you need two more nominations to even get an interview, and one needs to be from the agency you already work in.”  
  
Which means from Sue herself.  
  
Kurt’s heart drops; he knows how much money he brings to Cheerios, and since Sue hasn’t nominated him yet it must mean she wasn’t planning on it. And then there’s the small matter of the third nomination.  
  
Sue chuckles at the look on his face. “Oh there are so many things I could do right now, it’s killing me that I’m not taking more advantage of this. Look lady, I’d be happy to nominate you. Regardless of anything else it’s great publicity for Cheerios if one of my boys gets taken on by Marionnette Divine.”  
  
“And the financial aspect?” Kurt asks dubiously. “I know how much you hate interviewing new escorts.”  
  
“With the money you’re going to make me I can afford to have the vacancy for some time.” Kurt looks absolutely bewildered so Sue quickly explains herself. “The agency that the new courtesan comes from gets a lump sum, it keeps everybody happy. Makes it feel less like they’re simply poaching other people’s boys.”  
  
“Like you did with Brain?”  
  
“Like I did with Brian.” She smirks. “Then for your first year I get 15% of your earnings, and 10% in your second year. After that you keep everything you make apart from the 20% that goes into the Marionette's fund.”  
  
“Just 15%?” Kurt can’t see Sue being happy with that; above everything else Sue loves money.  
  
“15% of what you’ll earn in the future works out as a lot more than 40% of what you’re earning now,” she informs him smugly. “I can’t discuss exact numbers, partly because the Marionette's don’t like it and partly because I’ve never cared. But reports suggest that you’ll earn more in a week with them than you do now in two months. In fact one time I had a look on their website; a weekend with some of the courtesans costs in excess of $25,000.”  
  
Kurt’s jaw drops for the second time that day. “That’s an _obscene_ amount of money! I could pay my rent for a whole year with that!”  
  
“Well Porcelain, there's a lot of rich old men out there who will pay handsomely for their very own Dress Me Up Pretty Pretty Boyfriend. If you get this post then you’ll never have to pay rent again, you’ll be able to buy your building within the year.”  
  
Despite the doll comment Kurt collapses back on the couch in utter amazement, feeling like he has just won the lottery. Being the sole companion of someone fabulous and wealthy sounds a damn sight better than being the hourly hookup for a parade of men who will tire of him quickly and set him aside after all.  
  
His mind is already planning a whole new wardrobe and he hasn’t even gotten past the first hurdle yet. He’d probably move out and get a condo first, or maybe one of those townhouses he and Blaine have always admired from afar. He’d get himself a fantastic car, then maybe a private box at the theater. He and Blaine would definitely have to take a trip somewhere…maybe Ireland. Blaine has always wanted to go there one day because he’s part Irish. He'd love it, in fact Kurt can just picture him and-  
  
Then he remembers that Blaine is going to be married, he still needs a third nomination, and his face falls.  
  
“I know what you’re going to ask and I’m already on it,” Sue’s fingers tap something into her laptop before turning it to Kurt.  
  
He looks up at her in confusion as he scans the image on the screen. “That’s Olivia Newton John.”  
  
“Yes Porcelain I’m well aware of who she is.” Sue rolls her eyes impatiently. “I know her _very_ well. She was my agent once when I was still working.”  
  
“You’re kidding?!” Kurt asks in shock.  
  
“Yeah. It was before she got old and boring but what can you do,” Sue remarks with a shrug. “You know Jake was once nominated for Marionnette Divine.”  
  
Okay, now _this_ is an even bigger revelation. “Go on.” Kurt urges.  
  
“Before you arrived he was quite the catch. Not even a year had passed and he got nominated. Failed the interview though, they found him too aloof and cold.”  
  
Kurt’s beaming smile widens even further. “This day keeps getting better and better.”  
  
“Well keep that little bit of gossip to yourself,” she warns seriously. “Jake is difficult to work with at the best of times.”  
  
“And to think that if everything goes well I’ll never have to see his stuck up face ever again.” Kurt sighs dreamily. Of course he won’t tell Marionnette Divine that; he thinks they’ll need more reason than that to accept him. And he doesn’t intend to screw this up. Who knows when he’ll get another shot like this.  
  
This is everything he has been waiting for isn’t it?  
  
Kurt of course has certain people he must tell. If he gets this, it will change his entire life in ways that his family and friends won’t fail to notice. So he goes home and he calls his father and tells him the basic truth, that he’s being considered for a promotion. A promotion that would mean big bucks, even bigger opportunities and travel. He tells the same story to the few friends he’s still in contact with. Only two of them does he tell the truth; Alex and Blaine.  
  
************************  
  
The following week Kurt turns up at Marionnette Divine’s New York headquarters, which is actually the entire top floor of an apartment building on the upper east side. It makes Sue’s town house look like a shack.  
  
“Porcelain? Hi, I’m Kathy.” An elegant blond woman in her late thirties greets Kurt at the door. “It’s wonderful to meet you. Please, follow me.”  
  
He follows her down a long corridor, marveling at the fact that she almost glides despite wearing a pair of five inch heels that make her legs look impossibly long from underneath her pristine white dress.  
  
He gasps as she leads him into a stunning open plan room; high ceilings and windows that span the entire wall looking out over the city. The others in the room stand up from the white leather couch to greet Kurt, all as elegant and stunning as Kate, smiling guardedly. Kurt can tell that their clothes aren’t just designer – they’re couture. Kurt might as well have shopped at Wal-Mart when you compare his outfit to theirs, which he can tell is exactly what they’re doing as they look him up and down. Still he holds his head high. He has every intention of being one of them, and being the best at that.  
  
“Let me do a quick round of introductions; Gabriel Evans, Kevin Russell, Miranda Paulson, and Peter Shale.” Each person acknowledges Kurt with a curt nod of the head; and Kurt nervously nods back. They’re all gorgeous and clearly very professional, and yet Kurt is relieved. Underneath it all they look so normal; he had been expecting Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge.  
  
“You’re not nervous are you?” Kathy asks sweetly.  
  
“No….okay maybe a little” Kurt admits as he sits down, willing himself to sit smart and upright and still look natural.  
  
“Nothing to worry about, we’re just going to have a chat,” she reassures him. “So you’ve brought a sample of your wardrobe?”  
  
“Yes,” he answers politely, holding out the suit carrier he has brought with him.  
  
“Great, let’s have a look, shall we?” She smiles, looking around at the other courtesans. “Gabriel, would you like to do the honors?”  
  
Kurt passes Gabriel his clothes, trying not to shift uncomfortably as his life is scrutinized.  
  
As Gabriel works on looking through his clothes Kathy turns back to Kurt. The redhead Miranda is poised with a note pad and paper.  
  
“Okay, first things first. How old are you, Porcelain, just for the record?”  
  
Kurt pauses momentarily before answering. “Twenty six.”  
  
Kurt can hear two mutual intakes of breath and can see the look of disapproval on all their faces, Kathy’s in particular. “Our clients like their companions how they like their whiskey and wine. Expensive, and mature.”  
  
Next Peter puts in his thoughts. “A man who wants our company for weeks wants a person with life experience, real opinions, and anecdotes. Not just a silly child.”  
  
Silly child? Kurt can feel himself blushing and he hates the fact that these people have the power to make him feel so inferior. What right do they have to call him a silly child? How many of them got shoved into lockers, and bullied for most of their youth? He has seen and experienced more than people twice his age, and he works harder at being good at what he does than most of the _normal_ people he knows. And let’s not forget that he _did_ go to college and graduate top of his class.  
  
“Je ne suis pas stupide. Votre avis est juste puérile et mal informés.” The words are out, in french no less, before Kurt can think them through, but he won’t apologize for them. He _isn’t_ silly and their opinion _is_ foolish and uneducated.  
  
Miranda scribbles in her notebook and the others stare at him for several long painful seconds.  
  
“Let me explain a little more as to what we’re all about.” Kathy finally says, thankfully changing the subject. “Miranda and I felt that there wasn’t anywhere providing real upmarket quality in the industry so we thought we’d do it ourselves. We started out with just the two of us eight years ago, then we expanded and five years ago took on males as well to cater for the wider market; we now have offices in seven major cities.”  
  
“That’s quite an accomplishment,” Kurt compliments and Miranda's lips quirk in something like a sneer.  
  
“This is nice, where do you wear this?” Kurt turns his attention to Gabriel as he holds up a silk burgundy shirt.  
  
“Oh, well casual dinners. Parties that aren’t black tie,”  
  
“Yes this is the right color for you. You should avoid….that” he points at the yellow shirt Kurt’s wearing, inhaling through his teeth to emphasize his point. Kurt can’t help but blush; with his pale skin he has to be careful with yellow, but this shirt really focuses on how tiny his waist is and he rather likes it.  
  
“Why do you want to be a courtesan Porcelain?” Kathy asks seriously.  
  
“That’s a good question.” Kurt searches his brain for his prepared answer. His reasons seem to have flown him, but Kurt is a quick thinker if nothing else. “I’m ready to take the next step up the ladder, I’ve learned a lot but feel that it’s time to move on, and I’m always looking for a new challenge.”  
  
Miranda speaks next. Kurt’s finding it difficult to keep track of who’s saying what. “At this level it’s not about the client, it’s about us. Languages, etiquette, golf, wine tasting. We’re not just about servicing the client, we’re genuine companions. At this level the clients aren’t embarrassed to reveal that they’ve hired us. You should be someone worth bragging about. We are an asset to them, treasures if you will. If you get on one of our lists you should be applauded. That is _if_ you make the list.”  
  
The way she says if makes it clear to Kurt that she highly doubts he will be making that list.  
  
Forty five minutes into the interview Kurt has to excuse himself and head to the bathroom for a much needed break. Forget The Apprentice, _this_ is the job interview from hell. He’s starting to wonder what he’s doing there and why he ever thought he could be a high class courtesan in the first place. Well the good thing is Sue will probably take him back. He can cut his losses and forget...  
  
Kurt pauses. Forget what? Forget that he ever wanted something more than he was stuck with? Forget that just once he wanted to be recognized as someone special, out of the ordinary, worthy of notice?  
  
Why is it that he never feels like he deserves anything special?  
  
Don’t ask Sean to stop fucking everything that moves. Who are _you_ to ask him that? You’re lucky he even looks at you.  
  
Don’t try out for the musical Kurt, you don’t have the time, plus you wouldn’t get it anyway.  
  
Don’t apply to fashion school, you don’t have the money. Besides, are you _really_ cut out for it?  
  
Don’t say yes to Blaine. He deserves someone wonderful, and you’re only going to screw it up sooner or later.  
  
As Kurt Hummel stares at himself in the mirror a tiny voice whispers: don’t. It is the same voice that has been whispering at him for more years than he has even realized and it has taken till now to see how much he has allowed himself to give up on.  
  
Kurt splashes a little water on his face and dries it with a plush towel before he feels composed enough to go back in. When he re-enters he finds them all standing around talking animatedly, clearly about him as they fall silent as soon as they notice his presence.  
  
“Look, I know things haven’t gone very well so far, and you’re probably wondering who had the gall to send me here to audition for you. But I came in to the business so that I could be free to be different, and I am different, and you’d honestly be fools to let that slip past you,” He begins, shaky at first but growing in confidence as he goes. “It doesn’t always make sense to people why I love my job, and how I’m not wallowing in horror at myself, but as far as I’m concerned there’s nothing to wallow over. I’m smart. I’m strong, I care about the clients, I’ve got a wealth of experience and I promise you I am _very_ very good. Frankly speaking you could use me. Your French Gabriel is adequate but stilted, and Miranda those heels haven’t been seen on a runway in a decade and for good reason.”  
  
No one speaks for several moments, their expressionless faces a clone of one another until Kevin finally pipes up.  
  
“I like him.”  
  
Kurt walks out of their building twenty minutes later, dialing Alex’s number and starts walking towards the corner to fetch a taxi.  
  
 _“Hi you’ve reached Alex, leave me a message.”_  
  
“I did it, I’m a courtesan! They said I need to learn more German and brush up on my knowledge of current affairs. Oh, and I need new photos because Sue owns the ones I’ve got now. You said something once about your boyfriend teaching you photography so I’m counting on you for that. I did it Alex, I’m in! Okay call me back.”  
  
Kurt’s phone starts ringing almost as soon as he hangs up. This time it’s work.  
  
 _“So did you do it?”_  
  
“I did it!” He crows, grinning like an idiot.  
  
 _“Congratulations.”_ Sue’s voice sounds a little weird. _“Not that I’m not glad for you but I’ve just realized that you’re not as horrible as the others. As far as idiots go I mean.”_  
  
“Sue. Are you saying you’ll miss me?” Kurt teases, touched that she actually might. She’ll never say it though. Sue is even more emotionally repressed than he is.  
  
 _“You know, Porcelain sometimes I think you’re perfect with your sweet baby doll face and scary skin and then you open your mouth and all I can do is hate you. Anyway the reason I’m calling is because I’ve got Josh Groban on the other line, wants to know if his nomination did you any favors.”_  
  
“Fine put him on” Kurt sighs dramatically, still grinning from ear to ear. “And Sue? Thanks for everything. I might miss you too.”  
  
She doesn’t reply; the line hums for a second before Kurt hears Josh’s familiar voice.  
  
 _“So, am I the first client of Porcelain the courtesan rather than Porcelain the escort?”_  
  
“You most certainly are.” Kurt beams.  
  
 _“Well I’m not going to say I’m surprised, or that you don’t deserve it. You deserve to be treated like this. You deserve all the finer things in life.”_  
  
“Thanks.” Kurt can’t help but blush even though he can’t see Josh.  
  
 _“That’s why I want you to have my apartment.”_  
  
Kurt stops dead in his tracks, causing the man behind him to swear as he bumps into him.  
  
“What?”  
  
 _“I’ll still own it obviously, but if you want it; the apartment is yours. It’s not like I don’t have two of them anyway”_ He states like it’s the simplest thing in the world.  
  
“Which apartment?” Kurt’s heart is practically beating out of his chest, he imagines it’s like the moment when you’ve matched five numbers on the lottery and the last ball is just being released. “Not the penthouse apartment with 20 feet tall windows and see through stairs? The apartment with a two year waiting list where the lift opens out into the living room? Not the one with doormen, a gym, and an outdoor swimming pool? _That_ apartment?”  
  
 _“If you want it.”_ Kurt can hear that Josh is trying to keep from laughing over his outburst.  
  
And Kurt doesn’t care that he’s in the middle of a busy street surrounded by people, or that Josh Groban is on the other line. He squeals down the phone like a fan girl at a Beatles concert, running to hail a cab so he can call Blaine and grabbing a random woman in joy.  
  
“Oh my God I‘m going to have giant windows!”  
  
*****************************  
  
“I’ll still be doing a lot of night shifts but I’ve got a team of people working for me.” Kurt hates to lie to people he cares about but as far as the Anderson’s (excluding Blaine) are concerned, there is no way he can tell them the truth and have them understand. Packing up your entire life and moving is a big job however and even though things with him and Blaine aren’t the best right now, as always Blaine is there to help, and his family has been equally helpful.  
  
This particular unpacking day Blaine’s unable to be present but Regina and Elaine have left Tyler at home with the baby and helped Kurt transport the last of his things.  
  
“The lease is up on my old apartment next month anyway.”  
  
“And this new place belongs to the CEO?” Elaine Anderson looks around in appreciation. As a wedding designer Elaine has a great eye for quality architecture and decor.  
  
“Yeah, he’s going to work primarily out of our Paris office now and didn’t want to back out on the lease,” Kurt repeats his prepared story as he and Regina continue to unpack his stuff. He was very careful to pack everything associated with escorting in specific boxes labeled ‘private’ and has stashed them under the kitchen sink to be unpacked later.  
  
“Are these yours?” Regina has a pair of Gucci sunglasses in one hand and a belt by Valentino in the other, clearly confused as to how Kurt could afford them.  
  
“No Reggie I stole them. Blaine and I are part of this underground crime ring that raids boutiques for men’s designer accessories. It’s a dangerous life but we love it,” Kurt answers sarcastically, earning him a giggle from Regina. “Don’t tell anyone but they’re knock offs.” He lies.  
  
Regina’s eyes slant in suspicion but whatever she might have said next is lost because Elaine has found something in his boxes.  
  
“Oh look at this,” her mother gushes, holding up a dusty picture frame which Kurt instantly recognizes. “It’s that night at the lake house. I asked Blaine to make me a copy of this a thousand times but of course I’m still waiting.”  
  
“I remember,” Kurt smiles nostalgically. “You can take it if you want.”  
  
It’s from the summer after their freshman year. Blaine's family owns a summer house on a lake up north where they spend the first few weeks every summer. Elaine and Mitchell always allowed Regina and Blaine to invite a few of their friends to come out for the first week. Regina had snapped that particular picture when he, Blaine, Wes and David had fallen asleep on the dock where they’d gone to eat junk food and play ‘truth or dunk’. A truly horrible game that only a nineteen-year-old can really get in to (it’s very self-explanatory).  
  
He’d fallen asleep curled up sharing a ratty old blanket with Blaine and Regina had snapped a picture and teased them the rest of the trip. Blaine the idiot had made her develop a copy for them both to keep.  
  
Kurt’s smile wanes. He doesn’t feel very good.  
  
“Don’t you want to keep it?” Elaine asks, a little sadness in her voice.  
  
“Oh no. It’s fine, take it, put it in the photo album or something. I’m surprised Blaine hasn’t just given you his copy.”  
  
“Kurt…” he’s heard that tone in Regina’s voice a million times and it never ends well for him. “What’s going on with you and Blaine?”  
  
“Regina please just-” Kurt does not want to have this conversation right now.  
  
“No let me finish. I don’t think it’s a big shock to anyone that we’ve always thought you guys would end up together.”  
  
“Don’t get us wrong. We love Jeremiah he’s-” Elaine begins to say but Regina cuts her off with a roll of her eyes.  
  
“He’s not you, which presents a major problem because Blaine is in love with _you_ and not him. Mom and dad seem to think Blaine can take care of himself but I wanna know, since when? Tyler has money on the table that one of you will object at the wedding rather than hold your peace, while I have never thought for a second you’d actually make it to the wedding.”  
  
“Regina,” Elaine says in warning but Regina just gives her a look.  
  
“Someone has to say this mother. You’ve thought it as much as I have. Everybody is tiptoeing around hoping this all works itself out and won’t blow up in our faces but it looks to me like it already is.” Regina turns back to Kurt and her glare pins him into place. “So out with it shorty. Why do you and Blaine barely speak anymore and why are you moving into this place, taking this promotion that only sounds like it’s going to put you further out of reach?”  
  
Regina has called him shorty since the day they met, despite the fact that she’s a good two inches shorter than Kurt is(shorter than Blaine is even). Both Blaine and Regina favor their mother, in coloring and in height, but in temperament Blaine is all Elaine, and Regina is their father. Kurt knows from experience that the best way to deal with Regina is head on.  
  
“Because as much as everyone might have hoped, Blaine and I just aren’t going to work as a couple.” Kurt explains. “We’ve tried it before, and we’ve talked about it but we’re too different. I’m taking the promotion because it’s great for my career which I am focusing on right now, while Blaine wants to focus on the whole hearth and home gig. And in interest of that we both agreed it was better not to see each other so much. Exactly because I have to be having this conversation with you right now. The distance is needed.”  
  
Elaine sighs and pats his leg and goes back to unpacking and Kurt tries to do the same but the way Regina just sits there staring at him is unnerving.  
  
“What Regina? Clearly you still have something to say,” Kurt says not looking up from the box he’s unpacking.  
  
“I’m trying to put it all together. Figure out what I’m missing,” She answers.  
  
“What’s to miss?” Kurt shrugs, “Blaine’s getting married, I’m getting promoted and our relationship is transitioning. It’s natural. It had to happen sometime.”  
  
“Natural?” Regina scoffs. “That’s why Blaine looks depressed as hell and you’re functioning like a robot? Everything about you is so shut off, so fucking clipped Kurt, and you only get that way when you’re hurt.”  
  
“I’m _sorry_ Regina that I’m not marrying your brother alright, but you need to back off,” Kurt snaps tersely. “Just accept it. It’s not the end of the world. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.” He’s angry, yes.  
  
Does it always have to come back to this? Is there no one out there who understands that it just wouldn’t work? That maybe saying no to Blaine wasn’t a picnic, that maybe it was the hardest thing he has ever done but that he had to do it! Because there is no way it would work out and he can’t, he just _can’t_ lose Blaine like that again. They won’t survive it.  
  
Besides Blaine agrees, or he wouldn’t have let Kurt say no. It’s twisted logic, Kurt knows that but he can’t shake the thought from his mind. Blaine must believe that Kurt can’t hold together a long term relationship or he would be here now, insisting they try and make it work, not building something out of nothing with a man completely wrong for him.  
  
“I’m sorry am I making too big a deal of my brother’s happiness for you Kurt?” Regina’s eyes have narrowed practically into slits now. “Or your own for that matter. Honestly I....”  
  
“Regina!” Elaine’s voice is sharp in a way that demands obedience, that way that Kurt isn’t convinced that parents don’t take special courses in, and Regina falls silent and fumes. “I’m sorry Kurt. I’m sure you’re well aware but Reggie has no idea how to leave well enough alone. You’re no more responsible for Blaine than he is for you. You’re both adults and I’m sure you’ll both do whatever is necessary to find your own happiness. You are happy aren’t you dear?”  
  
Elaine’s hand on his back is warm and loving and though Kurt nods he doesn’t know if he believes it, and though Elaine smiles Kurt can see that no one else in the room believes it either.

 

********

One of the perks of being at the top of his profession is being completely in charge. The clients contact Kurt directly and he decides who he wants to see. Kurt sifts through all the requests, judging their spelling and grammar (because that’s important to him) then a few of them go onto conference calls and out of those a small number he arranges meet ups.  
  
It’s all a filtering process; some of them want a paid bit on the side, some want a holiday companion, others just want a glorified fuck buddy. ANd what they all want is something more than sex and occasional conversation. They want to purchase stock, a pretty trinket, something to show off their success and achievements. It’s all very flattering but... whatever.  
  
Kurt is....Kurt doesn’t know what he is. He realizes now that Regina was right about him operating like some sort of robot. He’d been zipping along briskly, numb to how quickly life was changing around him, eager because he was in fact the one driving the change.  
  
As time passes and he assimilates to his job he slowly realizes he has been running like hell from what happened that night with Blaine and lately it seems as if he has got a cramp and is staggering. Or something like that. Kurt is....Kurt doesn’t know what he is.  
  
He has got a lot of things on his mind right now.  
  
No, not the whole friends or lovers issue with Blaine. What does that matter anymore? Blaine seems perfectly content to wedding plan and ‘put his focus where it needs to be’. Kurt can’t remember which of them said that, he thinks it was him but...but Blaine should know better.  
If he’s in love with Kurt then it should make him do crazy things like...not focus on Jeremiah no matter how much smarter and healthier it would be....  
  
Not that it would be much healthier considering Jeremiah likes to hit him over the head with wine bottles. Kurt wonders how happy Elaine and Regina would be planning this wedding if they knew that little detail. Sometimes he imagines telling them, just to have the satisfaction of knowing they’ll put a stop to it but that would be vindictive, that would betray Blaine...who isn’t here.  
  
Because Kurt told him not to be.  
  
No, Blaine’s not on Kurt’s mind at all. He has got tons of other things to think about. Josh is taking him to London next week where he’s doing a tour. They’ll be staying in a fantastic hotel, good food and breathtaking views. It should be endlessly appealing but Kurt is...Kurt doesn’t know what he is.  
  
“How many clients have you got now?” Josh asks as they sit in Josh’s house in front of the open fire in matching white robes. It isn’t even noon yet but they’ve already opened a bottle of wine. It feels so decadent and naughty - Kurt likes the feeling, it takes the edge off the rawness inside.  
  
“Four. Two new ones, yourself and an old client.” Alex. Alex isn’t going to pay him of course but Kurt wants to avoid any potentially awkward issues with Josh so he doesn’t mention that tidbit. How to explain Alex? Not his boyfriend. Just a friend he occasionally sleeps with because it’s free, because it’s good and clean and he needs...Kurt needs...  
  
He takes a deep swallow of his wine and savors the taste. He needs to be really numb right now.  
  
“You want to watch that list, four is enough.” Josh warns as Kurt raises his eyes in confusion. “The more clients a courtesan has the less prestigious he becomes and the less money you make.”  
  
“You certainly know your escorts,” Kurt comments idly. “I would never have thought that. You have men and women throwing themselves at you, why pay for it?”  
  
“I’ve dated, and I’ve been married.” Josh leans over Kurt and pulls the cord loose on his robe, causing it to fall open and reveal his naked body beneath. “But it’s difficult to tell who wants _you_ and who wants the money or the publicity.”  
  
“And with us at least you know for sure. It’s the money.” The last word comes out as more of a gasp as Josh’s fingers begin circling his hole.  
  
“You know you could be whatever you want to be Porcelain.” Josh whispers and the words are so reminiscent of Blaine that Kurt grits his teeth as everything inside clenches.  
  
“What makes you think I don’t want to be this? You’re not trying to save me are you?” He asks, closing his eyes as Josh’s fingers enter him.  
  
“Of course not, I understand escorts well enough to know that at this level it’s a lifestyle choice, I’m just thinking out loud.”  
  
“Good!” Kurt gasps as the singers fingers press insistently against his prostate, rubbing almost too hard so that his cock leaks against his stomach. Josh bends down to suck one of Kurt’s peaked nipples between his lips, biting down as he works Kurt towards completion. He groans in dismay as Josh’s pager beeps and he immediately removes his mouth and fingers to check it.  
  
“Crap, I’m needed in the studio, a car’s on its way to get me,” he sighs in resignation, wiping his fingers on his robe as he jogs through to the bedroom and pulls on some clothes.  
  
“When will you be back?” Kurt asks through gritted teeth, still painfully hard.  
  
“Difficult to say, might not be until late tonight” Josh calls out, picking up his bag and already heading for the door. “Just make yourself at home; I’m sure a smart boy like you can find something to keep yourself entertained. I’ll see you when I see you.”  
  
And that’s where he leaves Kurt; naked, hard and frustrated in the middle of nowhere and alone.  
Is this what being a courtesan is all about?  
  
He can’t really muster up the energy to care. The unsatisfied arousal just bleeds into the raw ache inside until it all becomes one. He needs a release, something to ease the pressure so that he doesn’t snap or explode but he has no idea what caused it in the first place so he can’t exactly....  
  
Does he ever tire of lying to himself? Apparently not. Kurt Hummel is....he doesn’t know what he is.  
  
It turns out that Kurt is perhaps not the smart boy that Josh has presumed, because within the first hour he’s bored. He tries to read but every book he picks up is unsatisfying. He surfs the web but can’t find a single interesting thing to look at. The same goes for the television and he goes through all Josh’s DVDs without finding a single thing he wants to watch. It’s raining out and nothing satisfies.  
  
All Kurt can do is sit by the window in this cold, dark and creepy house, watching the rain and waiting for Josh to come back. He has turned into one of _those_ people. You know the ones; they live for their partners and don’t have a life of their own, their day doesn’t pick up until their loved one returns home from work. He has always looked down on them, perhaps unfairly, but right now he feels like he’s one of them and he hates himself for it.  
  
It’s a bright sharp sort of hate, and it’s good because it’s focused and it’s something to center him, something easy to understand.  
  
Josh finally arrives back nearly nine hours later. Kurt has fallen asleep with his forehead resting against the window, but as Josh bangs the front door loudly he nearly jumps out of his skin. He has forgotten where he is momentarily; the rain seems to have subsided now but it’s too late to go outside. Kurt rubs his eyes and tightens the robe around himself as he wanders through the vast rooms of the house until he finds Josh sitting in the study, looking tired and pissed off and focusing intently on his computer screen.  
  
He doesn’t even acknowledge Kurt as he sits down on the edge of the computer table; his eyes never leave his laptop. Kurt is in a fog, moving in slow motion, his only fuel a slow simmering anger.  
  
As he pulls the robe down from his shoulders he thinks about bees. He thinks about how the young workers swarm, how they leave the hive to make hives elsewhere. Kurt’s stripping doesn’t get a reaction from Josh. As he sucks a finger into his mouth and then trails it down his chest he thinks of the virgin queens. How if they stay behind they die never having lived, never having fulfilled their purpose, never having flown.  
  
This time Josh does look up; he doesn’t look impressed.  
  
“You’re demanding and needy. Do you know that? Can’t you see I’m working?”  
  
Kurt, needy? Yes. He needs so much. So so much.  
  
Demanding?  
  
Is he?  
  
Is he!  
  
Has Kurt ever once taken something for himself that he actually wanted? When has Kurt ever demanded the things that he yearns for? In high school when all he wanted was to sing and to dream and someone to hold his hand and dance with? Did he do it then?  
  
How about college when all he wanted was someone to see him, to see him and think he and he alone was worth having? Did he do it then, when he was on his knees in front of Sean? Did he demand for the things he wanted when he had the attention of someone as beautiful as Blaine is... and again when Blaine gave him so much and all he asked was confirmation that it wasn’t in vain, that one day he might want to be with him too? Did he do it then?! Does he do it ever?!  
  
NO! Kurt demands nothing. He gives up everything. He sells pieces of himself for the meager scraps of survival, for pale light that is an imitation of sunshine and not the blaze he was born to set.  
  
Josh curses under his breath in annoyance when the landline starts ringing, but before he can reach it Kurt has pulled the cable from the wall in frustration, like a child throwing his toys. The incensed look on Josh’s face tells him that it wasn’t a wise move.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?!” He shouts, causing Kurt to flinch. “What you think that’s cute?! You think this is how to get my attention?!”  
  
“Do you think it’s cute to lock me up in here all day with nothing to do but wait for you?!”  
  
“Stop your moaning you’re like a child! You wanted to be a courtesan, you’re not my boyfriend. This is what I’ve _paid_ you for! You’ll wait a month if I say so.”  
  
When his mobile starts ringing Kurt grabs that too and Josh makes a sudden lunge to grab it as he becomes more and more annoyed. This time when he makes a grab for it, Kurt moves unexpectedly and Josh catches the side of his face with enough force to knock him off the edge of the desk. Kurt falls to the floor and then quickly sits up to grasp his cheek where it throbs painfully. He’s shaking but not crying; there’s no reason to cry.  
  
Kurt is...Kurt is done with this. He wants to go home.  
  
“Shit,” Josh swears once again as Kurt gets up and retrieves his robe, pulling it around himself, suddenly very self-conscious. He doesn’t want to hear Josh’s excuses whatever they might be and barges past him into the bedroom. “Porcelain I’m sorry!”  
  
Kurt rubs his eyes furiously as he flops down on the bed, refusing to cry as he hugs the pillow to his chest. It wasn’t supposed to be like this; it was supposed to be glamorous and exotic. It was supposed to be fun, and most importantly he was supposed to forget Blaine and none of that is happening. He hates himself for being so damn naive, thinking he was bettering himself, and he hates Josh for suggesting it in the first place, making him change who he is. And Kurt is...he doesn’t know. Why doesn’t he know?  
  
“It was an accident, honestly,” Kurt hears Josh whisper apologetically.  
  
“Just because I’m a whore doesn’t mean you can knock me around.” Kurt tells him through gritted teeth. “If that’s what you’re in to I can direct you to hundreds of boys who’ll gladly take a few bruises for a few bucks, but it’s not me. We’re done here Josh.”  
  
“You know that’s not how I see you,” the other man says patiently, his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “But I’m here to work, not baby you.”  
  
“I didn’t ask to be babied. I’ve never asked a single thing from you, have I?” Kurt turns around to face him; Josh does look genuinely sorry. “But I am asking you to take me home.”  
  
Josh sighs as he checks his watch. “Maybe this was too much too soon. I think we need some time apart. I’ll call my assistant and get you a car first thing tomorrow.”  
  
“No. Tonight. Right now!”  
  
Kurt waits for the inevitable argument, but it doesn’t come. Josh simply grimaces and nods, his fingers gently touching the side of Kurt’s face which is already starting to swell. Apparently when clients hit their whores they become more generous.  
  


***********

  
  
An hour later Kurt is back at his fancy new apartment, but as the elevator closes behind him he realizes that he has simply exchanged one prison for another. This place belongs to Josh, _he_ belongs to Josh.  
  
But only because he walked right into it. Only because he allows it. And that’s the moment it sinks in, something inside Kurt releases and clarity breaks up the fog.  
  
Kurt Hummel is not a marionette, a puppet to be yanked about on strings, or a porcelain faced doll to be left on the shelf to gather dust or be knocked down at his owners leisure. He is whatever he allows himself to be and the horrible truth is he has allowed himself nothing.  
  
Kurt grabs his phone, quickly composing a text message to send to Blaine.  
  
 _Come over now!!!!_  
  
“What is it? What’s up?” Blaine asks anxiously as he arrives nearly half an hour later. Then he sees him. “Kurt what the hell happened to your face?!”  
  
“Josh Groban,” Kurt answers flippantly. Blaine seems to think he’s joking.  
  
“Are you serious right now? You call me over in the middle of the night, scaring me half to death and you want to joke around?!” He yells in disbelief. “I thought you were seriously hurt!” Kurt opens his mouth and Blaine curses under his breath as his phone starts ringing. “This isn’t over” he points at Kurt before turning his back and taking the call. “Hey baby” he answers.  
  
Kurt screws up his face when he realizes it’s Jeremiah on the other end. He’d say this whole thing isn’t going to plan, but he has no plan. Just a desire, a desire he’s finally ready to act on.  
  
“No I’m coming back I just need to take care of something... yes I know it’s the middle of the night… sorry if I woke you up….” Blaine continues on and Kurt watches him, eyes narrowing as energy courses through his body. He still needs a release, but at least this time he understands the origin of the pressure.  
  
Blaine. He really wants Blaine, always has, and yes he has been pretty stupid pushing him away and telling him not to come back but Blaine has been stupid too, staying away. They are both really stupid.  
  
Kurt practically gags listening to Blaine grovel, he’s like this unrecognizable person when it comes to Jeremiah, it’s almost like he’s scared of him; it makes Kurt sick. Why is he so scared of losing someone who doesn’t understand the first thing about him, and at the first sign of losing control over him _actually_ physically assaults him?! Accident or no, Blaine should not be considering marrying him. Hell Kurt’s a whore and he can find the strength to walk away, so why can’t Blaine?  
  
He’s a god damn honey bee that’s why. Kurt starts to laugh loudly even though nothing is funny.  
  
“Do you want tea or something stronger?” He calls out, voice raised. He wants Jeremiah to hear him because he can’t resist rocking the boat. Not when he feels like this, like everything inside of him might just explode in a moment.  
  
As Kurt calls to Blaine he turns around. His face is furious and he’s giving Kurt daggers with his eyes.  
  
“Yeah I’m with Kurt… I know, really sorry… I know he is……I will… I promise… bye baby.”  
  
“Awww. You’re not inviting him over? We could have had a late night picnic,” Kurt mocks, tone dripping venom as Blaine hangs up.  
  
“You want to tell me what the hell’s wrong with you right now?!” Blaine demands, hands curling into fists at his side. “Now he knows I’m with you!”  
  
“So what?!” Kurt practically spits. “He knows we’re best friends it’s not like we’re having sex. Not yet anyway.”  
  
“Will you just stop! What do you want from me Kurt? To be in love with you, you already got that. You’ve had it for years and you’ve made it clear you don’t intend to do anything with it. You told me to my face that you don’t want me that way and you have the _audacity_ to sit there and say something like that?!”  
  
“I’m saying it because you need to hear it!” Kurt retorts back. “You throw the word love out there a lot. You love me, you love him, you propose to him one minute and then you’ve got your hands all over me just like all the guys who pay me for what they can’t get from their partners. What was I supposed to feel? Was that supposed to be romantic Blaine, was I supposed to feel special?” Blaine flinches like he’s been struck.  
  
“Kurt I _never_ wanted you to feel cheap. I just...I looked at you and I wanted you and I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have touched you but you _know_ what it was about. It was about you and how much I always want you, not for what Jeremiah can’t give me but for you, Kurt you, and you know that! But you don’t want to see it, you don’t want to accept the fact that the only thing keeping you from happiness is you. And for what?! All this shit!” Blaine waves his hand around, gesturing to the immaculate apartment around them. “Instead of friends you’ve got an agency and instead of a relationship you’ve got labels and a pretentious apartment that you don't need! You’re on the path to self-destruction and the worst thing is you can’t even see it!”  
  
It’s not that Blaine is saying anything that Kurt has not already begun to unravel for himself. It’s the way in which he says it, that angry disgusted tone that is void of any warmth or comfort. It’s a razor blade cutting away the hair and scratching the skin, a band aid ripped from the wound.  
  
All Kurt can think is that the bee isn’t giving honey anymore and he doesn’t understand why.  
  
“So you finally got there. Does it feel good? Go ahead say it. You want me to stop working is that what you’re saying? Because I recall you saying you accepted me, and every time I turn around we’re having the same argument!” Kurt shouts back.  
  
“You don’t even listen to me! Not once have I asked you to quit! Don’t you get it Kurt, I want _you_ to want to quit! You were miserable before, I know that. You made it perfectly clear when we were together, but look at you now. You’re no happier now than you were back then. You just kid yourself by surrounding yourself with pretty, meaningless things.”  
  
His words hurt, they really really do, but something about fighting relieves the tension winding in Kurt. So he pushes. He’s really good at pushing.  
  
“Why don’t you just admit that you’re never going to be able to accept who I am-”  
  
“Kurt!” Blaine practically screams cutting him off. “Stop saying that. The fact that you think it is...it makes me insane. _You_ drive me nuts Kurt.”  
  
“Stop screaming at me!”  
  
“No! For the past months, the past _eight years_ , all I’ve ever done is listen to you! Now you’re going to listen to me! Do you even hear yourself sometimes? The way you go on about your life you’d think you were Mary Magdalene. But you’re not.” Blaine reaches for Kurt and Kurt slaps his hands away but Blaine reaches again until he has caught Kurt by the shoulders. “What you were was a scared little boy who made a mistake, and what you are now is a coward too afraid to accept the mess you made.” Kurt tries to pull away from him, but Blaine isn’t letting him go this time.  
  
“Don’t hiss at me! I know I’m not any better. I don’t have any business trying to save you when I haven’t even been able to save myself. I know you’re scared, I am too. I’m terrified. I was scared out of my mind the first time you broke my heart, and you did Kurt, you broke us both. And it hurt like hell, but there I was still wanting you. But I was a coward and I ran.”  
  
There are tears in Kurt’s eyes and a loud drumming in his ears but he hears this confession, and it causes him to still. He shakes his head. No. Blaine has always been there for him, even now when his words hurt, when they are not gentle, when they strip him and make him see, he is there for him and not letting him go.  
  
“Yes Kurt. Yes I did.” Blaine insists. “I lied to you. I lied to myself and I lied to my fiancé as if you weren’t the first thing on my mind every morning and the last thing on it at night. I let someone else fall in love with me and spend years of their life building something with me that isn’t real, that has _always_ belonged to you because I was scared. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life alone, wanting you and watching you come and go. I didn’t have the courage to fight for you, and you’ll never know how sorry that makes me, but I’m coming to realize that’s not what you need.” Blaine leans his forehead against Kurt’s.  
  
“Blaine?” Kurt whispers desperately into the silence that drags on.  
  
“What you need Kurt… what the both of us need I think, is the courage to fight for ourselves,” Blaine whispers. As Kurt shudders Blaine backs away and takes a deep breath.  
  
Kurt grabs his arm as he makes to turn around. “Please. Don’t go yet.”  
  
Blaine sighs heavily as he turns toward Kurt and pulls his arm out of his grasp. “I have to. Jeremiah is wondering why I’ve rushed over here to see you at two in the morning. Despite everything I’m still engaged and while it’s probably not for much longer, I need to handle this. Because he knows Kurt, he knows what you do for a living. Don’t ask me how but he does, and it’s _humiliating_ because even knowing that, I can’t bring myself to regret everything I’ve done for you.”  
  
“Blaine I never wanted to get in your way.” Kurt begs him to understand. “I wanted you to be happy.”  
  
“That’s not… it’s just that… Jesus. Look at us, Kurt. You’re going to be my best man! At our wedding we’re going to be standing there in front of all our friends and family. Then you’re going to get up and make your speech like nothing ever happened between us, and both Jeremiah and I… hell, the entire room will be thinking ‘What’s Blaine doing with him? He should be marrying _him_!’ It’s downright…. Stupid.” Blaine laughs short bitter and sharp and then he sighs. “So yeah Kurt, this is a mess, and I made it, and I need to handle it. I need to go, I need to get my life in order and it doesn’t include marrying someone I’m not in love with to avoid the fact that the one man I’m in love won’t risk himself to be with me; that’s all there is to it.”  
  
Finally Blaine runs out of steam, standing there helplessly as if he wants Kurt to tell him what to do or the sky to open up and rain down on his head. For a moment Kurt’s rooted to the spot, wide eyed and slack jawed, unable to speak or move. The pressure is gone and in its place is shallow relief. There is only one clear way forward really.  
  
Blaine is moving for the door once again. “I’m going. I just... need to go.”  
  
“Wait!” Kurt calls after him. It takes the prospect of him walking out to prompt Kurt to take action. He grabs Blaine by the bicep, pulling him so close and yanking him into a searing kiss.  
  
Initially Blaine pulls back, murmuring words of protest against Kurt’s mouth. Kurt holds to him tightly, pressing into his lips all of the pain and the regret and the hope that rages inside of him and eventually Blaine is giving in and kissing back with equal passion.  
  
In many ways this kiss is reminiscent of the ones they shared when they first got together, fiery and hard, but it’s also different; something has changed in them both but neither dare articulate it in case it breaks the spell. Their hands simultaneously grab the other’s face, tangling in hair like they’re in competition to see who can pull the hardest.  
  
“Stay,” Kurt gasps as they finally pull away, their hands still in the other’s hair and their foreheads touching.  
  
“Why?” Blaine asks almost non-audibly, panting heavily.  
  
“Because I want you to,” Kurt answers him simply. “Because I’ve always wanted you to...and you’re right. I wasn’t brave enough. I haven’t been fair or kind, or good to you and I’m just....so sorry. I don’t know how we’re gonna fix any of it, but I do know that I don’t want to be without you anymore. I’m not good without you, Blaine.”  
  
“We weren’t all that good together either,” Blaine shakes his head, sniffing slightly and Kurt realizes that he’s crying.  
  
“But we can be,” he murmurs, holding Blaine’s face and forcing him to look into his eyes, hoping against hope that he can convey his love and sincerity. “We’re a mess. But we have each other and that, that’s all we need. So please, stay. Be with me.”  
  
Blaine doesn’t say a word; the only sounds are of their heavy breathing and the traffic on the streets below. He looks around the room, his eyes red and teary as he tries to focus on anything but Kurt’s expectant face. Kurt begins to lose hope, hating himself for reaching for something so high, sure that he’s going to get his heart broken for the second time in his life until after what feels like an eternity Blaine finally looks back at him.  
  
“I was waiting for some kind of voice from heaven or a thunder clap, but everything is still the same. We’re the same Kurt… nothing’s changed. I don’t think we ever left each other.” He whispers finally, at last revealing that gorgeous goofy smile.  
  
Kurt wants to laugh at the irony of it; they were screaming at each other only moments earlier and now this, it’s like watching a movie. But his laugh comes out as more of a relieved sob, and Blaine envelopes his trembling body in his strong, safe arms, arms that Kurt loves.  
  
“This is it, right?” Blaine murmurs against his hair. “No more playing games? No more secrets? This is the real deal.”  
  
“If you want it to be.” Kurt sniffs with a smile, cradling his cheek. He can’t believe this is really happening. He’s in love with someone and he’s taking it in hand and trying to hold it forever. Does that work? Does anyone ever really succeed at that? He doesn’t think so, but maybe, maybe the lifetime of trying will be worth the effort.  
  
“I want it. Do you?” Even after his earlier declaration there’s a hint of a question in Blaine’s voice, which is understandable. Kurt has hurt him before, and even if he refuses to do it again he still has to ask.  
  
Kurt nods his head immediately, needing so badly for Blaine to know how serious he is.  
  
“More than anything.”  
  
They stand like that for what could have been hours but what in reality is only minutes, both content just to be in the other’s arms and neither daring to move in case they wake up.  
  
Finally Kurt breaks the silence.  
  
“Come to bed with me?” Kurt asks softly, placing a finger on his lips as a look of panic crosses Blaine’s face and he opens his mouth to protest. “Shhh. Not for sex. I just want you near me. Besides, you’re still engaged, and you’re right. You do need to handle that first.”  
  
“God. Jeremiah…” Blaine sighs finally, looking away as he rubs his eyes in exhaustion. Kurt cuts off his protests with a slow, loving kiss.  
  
“Can wait. Tomorrow we’ll deal with everything; we’ve got a lot to talk about. But for tonight let’s pretend it’s just us, no one else in the world and no more regrets. Whatever happens I won’t regret taking a chance on this.” Kurt knows that now.  
  
“Then will you come home?” Blaine asks, sounding almost childlike. “This place is.... lifeless, you don’t belong here Kurt.”  
  
Kurt nods in agreement; he has been ready to go home longer than Blaine even knows. He feels like he’s walking on air. “Of course I’m coming home.”  
  
If you have ever seen a ship wreck then you know the terror of it, you know the ferocious howling of wind, the crack of thunder, and the screaming of splintering wood. Kurt and Blaine have come through such a storm, and they have shipwrecked; thankfully life always grants us a few small mercies. Every storm ends, the waves always quiet, and now they find themselves standing in the aftermath; ravaged and battered but mercifully alive.  
  
If you have ever walked a beach after a storm, you know about the ironic beauty of peace and silence after the roar that came before. Their shore is a mess of broken pieces and debris but the relief that comes with survival, with tasting the gift of life handed back to them makes their tattered stretch of beach feel like a haven. They will touch hands, link arms, and turn their faces to the gentle wind and marvel at life’s revealed simplicity. Storms have come before and they will come again. It’s a cycle, the process of life, the very story of humanity, and they will do as countless others have done before them.  
  
They will pick up the broken planks and build something new, and they will do so with a joy that makes no sense at all. And yet, in our strange backward little world, in the human experience of it, it’s the only thing that makes any sense in the world.  
  
I regret to inform you it won’t be easy.

 


	12. Powdered Angels.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are worth the wait.

As the alarm clock on Kurt’s phone rudely disturbs what feels like the best night’s sleep he’s had in years, Kurt initially thinks that this is just like any other morning. Kurt searches his groggy brain for the list of what clients he has to see that day and tries to decide how much longer he can get away without opening his eyes before he absolutely has to get up.  
  
Then he winces as he feels the dull ache of the bruise on the side of his face and suddenly remembers his altercation with Josh, and how he got a cab home and told Blaine to come over. How they had a huge fight and then the incredible events that followed.  
  
As Kurt remembers falling asleep in Blaine’s arms he automatically rolls over to be closer to him, only to find that he isn’t there. In fact the place where he had been previously is cold, suggesting he has been gone a while. His heart starts pounding in his chest. Has Blaine had regrets? Has he changed his mind and gone back to Jeremiah? Kurt can’t stop these doubts from being foremost in his mind, even though his rational mind says that actions like those are not in Blaine’s character.  
  
But as you already know Kurt does not find it easy to rest in love and he can’t stop the voice that insists he remember that Blaine was sleeping in his bed last night and not Jeremiah’s, so apparently it _is_ in his character. The thing you have to understand is this. Kurt and Blaine may have decided to stop pretending they aren’t madly in love with each other, they may have decided to be together, but that in no way makes them _prepared_ nor does it change the rough and tumble road ahead of them. They are two men with plenty of baggage between them, and the only way to move forward is to lay it all on the table and begin sorting.  
  
The trouble with that of course, is that no one has told either of them this. Like so many before them, they find themselves at the morning after, unsure of what comes next, and like all those others they will simply have to muddle through.  
  
Kurt is trying to think up some _good_ reasons for why Blaine would simply sneak off in the middle of the night without a word. He’s failing, miserably. Just as he’s beginning to panic he feels the bed dip, and he finally opens his eyes to see Blaine smiling and leaning over him, fully dressed and wide awake.  
  
The only thing you need to know in order to understand the following is that there is a magical period of time called a honeymoon phase. It is truly unexplainable by any rational.  
  
“Morning,” Blaine whispers with a smile, bending down to kiss Kurt’s forehead and lying down next to him.  
  
Kurt may not be prepared to be in love, but he is, and you should know that (near panic attacks aside) he is extremely happy this morning, happier than he has been in years.  
  
Reason number one why Kurt’s so happy: not waking up alone.  
  
“I can’t believe I’m waking up next to you,” Kurt marvels with a small sigh of contentment as he stretches under the sheets.  
  
“You’ve woken up next to me before,” Blaine reminds him.  
  
“Yeah, but it’s not the same.” Kurt is grinning like a love struck idiot, which of course he is. He doesn’t think he has ever been this happy first thing in the morning. But then he remembers Blaine’s absence when he woke and some of the feeling fades. “Where were you?”  
  
“I woke up about three hours ago” Blaine explains, draping an arm over his waist. “At first I was just lying here, watching you sleep. I had to keep pinching myself to convince myself that this was really happening. Then I started feeling like some weird creep and didn’t want to wake you so I got up and decided to go get us breakfast.”  
  
“A handsome man to bring me breakfast in bed.” Kurt nuzzles his cheek as Blaine chuckles. “You trying to butter me up Mr. Anderson?”  
  
“Only the best for my baby.”  
  
Reason number two why Kurt is so happy: having someone call him baby as a term of endearment and instead of it making his stomach churn his heart pounds.  
  
“Let’s eat, I’m starving,” Blaine declares, reaching over to the night stand and holding up a bag from their coffee shop. “Pain au Chocolate with a double tall gingerbread skinny latte, piping hot with extra foam and a caramel drizzle – because this should be the best morning of your life, so you should just go nuts and not worry about your arteries or your thighs, or whatever it is you worry about so needlessly.”  
  
Reason number three: of all the extravagant and expensive gifts Kurt has been given in the past, somehow a little thing like this means all the more to him, because Blaine knows him, and it’s _Blaine_.  
  
Kurt whines pathetically for the sheer fun of it as Blaine goes to climb off of the bed to set up breakfast, pulling him back down next to him. “Stay here for a while. Then you can help me put my life back into boxes and get the hell out of here. My lease isn’t up on my old apartment yet and my landlord said I could go back if I wanted to.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Blaine decides as he breaks off a piece of Pain au Chocolate and hand feeds Kurt the pastry. As Kurt’s lips wrap around the tips of Blaine’s fingers the last thing on his mind are the amount of calories he’s taking in.  
  
Reason number four: Blaine brings him breakfast in bed and his eyes honestly smolder as he watches Kurt eat.  
  
This, this Kurt could get used to. What the hell has he been doing all these years when he could have been doing _this_ with Blaine? Kurt leans in to kiss Blaine and to his surprise Blaine shakes his head and leans away.  
  
“Blaine?” Kurt asks hesitantly and Blaine touches his cheek gently.  
  
“I need to talk to Jeremiah.”  
  
Oh yes. There is that. Blaine is still engaged and Kurt can understand his needing to end that before they take this any farther than they already have.  
  
“When?” He asks and Blaine shrugs.  
  
“As soon as possible I should think. I don’t want to waste another second I could be with you.”  
“Let’s do it today. We’ll get dressed, move my stuff back and head over to your place.”  
  
“Yeah, because there’s nothing in the world I want to do but kiss you right now and-” Kurt smiles and presses their lips together, ending Blaine’s lament before he can even finish it.  
  
“There, I kissed you.” He smiles against his cheek. “If anyone asks just tell them what a horrible person I am.”  
  
They spend the rest of the morning reboxing Kurt’s things. Blaine calls a friend to bring his van so they can ferry Kurt’s stuff back to his old apartment and by that time Kurt has spoken to his land lord - thankfully he is more than happy to have Kurt back. It helps to always be on time for rent.  
  
He then calls his parents, and his dad is the one to answer. He tries to explain why he’s moving apartments once again and why he has turned down the promotion he’d told them was the opportunity of a lifetime.  
  
 _“Kurt, I don’t know. Have you thought about this? Wasn’t this promotion a big advancement for you at that company?”_ Kurt hate’s lying to his father, it’s why he doesn’t call home often.  
  
“Yes it was, but it required moving and so much travel and…” Kurt bites his lip, searching for some explanation that Burt will buy and he finally settles on something close to the truth. “…and it was great, a great opportunity, but I realized it would mean letting go of some things that are worth more to me. Blaine and I, we’ve decided to take another shot at things and taking that promotion would have made that impossible.”  
  
Burt is silent on the other end of the line for a moment and then he makes a humming sound, something Kurt thinks sounds more on the pleased end of things.  
  
Blaine hasn’t spent as much time with Kurt’s family as Kurt has his but that’s only because of distance. A hefty chunk of their summer holidays while they were in college together were spent in Lima, and not to mention a few of the major holidays. Kurt’s entire family adores Blaine, in fact there were a few times that first summer Kurt actually worried that his father wouldn’t actually rather spend time with football loving Blaine than him.  
  
It was a groundless fear of course, a fleeting thought, and Kurt likes the fact that he doesn’t have to worry about his family not approving of his boyfriend. In fact when they’d broken up that first time the first thing out of Finn’s mouth had been “Dude, not cool”.  
  
 _“And you’re happy with that choice? Even if it doesn’t mean you get all those big things you wanted?”_ Burt finally asks.  
  
“Yeah dad, I am.” Kurt assures him, smile creeping back on his face. “I don’t regret a thing.”  
Burt tells him to be careful, and as they’re saying their goodbyes Kurt can feel how much they miss each other so keenly it’s like he can reach out and pick up the missing, it’s so solid and tangible between them. He makes some noise about taking a trip down there soon and says goodbye.  
He wishes it was something more than smoke. He misses his family a lot but he hates lying to them more.  
  
“Quick question,” Blaine calls from the bedroom, drawing Kurt from his thoughts. Kurt laughs out loud as Blaine walks back into the living room holding up a thick black dildo that he can’t even fit his fingers entirely round. Blaine holds it wisely between his thumb and forefinger. Kurt sterilizes everything after use but he still has no idea where it’s been. “How on _earth_ does that fit inside someone?!”  
  
“Very slowly. With lots of finger and lube,” Kurt informs him, giggling as Blaine’s jaw drops. “Play your cards right and I might show you.”  
  
Blaine is predictably flushing as his mobile suddenly starts ringing.  
  
“Just a minute.” Blaine fumbles in his many pockets until he locates his ringing phone. “Hello….hi Derek…ten minutes would be awesome, you have the address?.....that’s right……no it’s not for me, it’s for my boyfriend. Okay see you then.”  
  
Blaine hangs up, turns, and his face is a picture as Kurt grins stupidly at him.  
“What?”  
  
“You just called me your boyfriend!” He beams as his heart flutters. Oh god, Kurt would hate himself if he wasn’t too damn happy to hate anything right now.  
  
“What? Would you rather I called you my girlfriend?” Blaine chuckles as he wraps his arm around Kurt’s waist and smiles up at him.  
  
“Just sounds nice is all,” Kurt purrs as his arms encircle Blaine’s neck so they’re flush against one another.  
  
“I can say it again if you want me to,” Blaine teases as Kurt leans in for a quick kiss. “Kurt and Blaine: boyfriend and boyfriend.”  
  
And then they don’t talk for a bit, because they’re kissing. If you must know, it’s good, so good in fact that Kurt is honestly considering never talking again.  
  
Reason number five for Kurt’s complete and total state of bliss: having a label other than escort or prostitute.  
  
“So you ready to head back to Kurt’s place?” Blaine asks softly.  
  
“Hmmm can you really call it that when technically I’ve moved out?”  
  
“That apartment will always be your place,” he tells Kurt. “It’s part of who you are. It’s like freakishly polished and sleek yet friendly and welcoming, everything this place is not. Even when we’re eighty and living in a retirement home that place will still be your apartment.”  
  
“I guess so. And when I leave for real it’ll be snapped up by another young graduate who thinks he can move to the big apple with no life experience and expect to get paid 30K a year to sit on his backside.”  
  
“What are you going to tell the guy who owns this place?” Blaine asks as they reluctantly part and head back down stairs.  
  
“Nothing, just leaving him the key and a note.” It’s not the best way of explaining to Josh but there’s no use drawing out the process, and besides, Kurt honestly doesn’t care at this point _what_ Josh thinks.  
  
Blaine reads the note out loud as Kurt passes it to him. “Josh, sorry but it’s not for me. Thanks for everything, Porcelain.” His head shoots up as realization dawns. “Oh my god you really were with Josh Groban last night!”  
  
“No more lies, remember?” Kurt nods, smiling softly as he grabs his last bag and heads to the door, turning off the lights as he takes one last look around the apartment he’d always wanted. He smirks whimsically. It’s funny how things turn out; sometimes you need to actually fulfill your dreams before you realize they weren’t really what you wanted at all.  
  
Kurt closes the door on the dream pad and doesn’t feel anything remotely close to regret.  
  
Kurt turns to Blaine and holds out his hand and before he can complete the motion Blaine’s hand is sliding into his, squeezing reassuringly. The one or two remaining doubts that Kurt may have had about the future vanish as soon as Blaine’s fingers makes contact with his.  
  
Reason number six for Kurt’s complete and total state of bliss: the mere touch of Blaine’s skin is like electricity.  
  
*****************************  
“Maybe you should wait here.” Blaine pauses outside apartment 36 A, the place where he has lived for just over three years, the last of which with the fiancé he is preparing to dump.  
  
“And maybe if you’re lucky he won’t decide to stab you with a kitchen fork once you bear him the bad news,” Kurt remarks snidely. “I’m coming with you, if only to make sure he doesn’t hurt you again.”  
  
“Kurt, I told you he’s not like that.” Blaine sounds exasperated and Kurt tries to gentle his tone but it’s hard. He can’t like Jeremiah for a lot of reasons but he can hate him for what he did to Blaine and it’s all well and good for Blaine to be wonderful and forgiving but sometimes he could do with a little vinegar to go with all that honey he dishes out.  
  
“Fine, I can accept that his loss of temper resulting in him actually trying to beat in your skull was a freak loss of composure brought on by extreme emotional duress.” Kurt takes Blaine’s hand as he whispers quietly. “But you’re about to cancel your wedding, you’re about to terminate your entire relationship and basically call it a mistake. I think that qualifies as extreme emotional duress and whatever his reaction is going to be I don’t want you to face it alone.”  
  
Blaine smiles slightly and squeezes his hand. “I know that Kurt, and I appreciate it. Really I do but you’re right about everything I’m about to do and how hard it’s going to be for him but you being there is only going to make it worse.” Kurt opens his mouth to protest but Blaine quickly staves him off with a little pressure on his hand and a shake of his head. “If it were you, Kurt, would you want me bringing the guy with me? Would you want him watching the whole thing and to have to watch me walk away with him?”  
  
Since Kurt would rather roll around in a den of porcupines than live out the scenario Blaine just painted he has to agree that Blaine has a point. He nods grudgingly and Blaine squeezes his hand again.  
  
“Trust me. I’ll be fine,” he says as he presses a kiss to Kurt’s temple.  
  
“And if you’re not I’m marching in there and dragging that ass out by his mop top and showing him how I act when _I’m_ under emotional duress.” Kurt hears Blaine chuckle as he slides the key into the door and opens the lock. He shoots Kurt a grateful smile and mouths a thank you as he opens the door and disappears inside.  
  
Waiting outside is a bit like waiting for a bomb to go off. He’s not sure what to expect from the next second and his nerves are raw with anticipation. The first sign of commotion and he’ll make good on his promise because despite what Blaine thinks Jeremiah has no right to touch him, no matter how angry he gets or how selfish Blaine’s mistakes.  
  
The walls in Blaine’s apartment building are thicker than some but not thick enough to completely drown out two grown men in an all-out screaming match. Mostly it’s Jeremiah’s voice he hears, high, sharp and thunderous, but every now and then he can hear Blaine’s too, coming out in an angry murmur.  
  
Choice words, usually curses, stick out and he winces because if he can hear them through the door than the neighbors surely can-  
  
No sooner has Kurt started the thought then the door of 37 A is flying open and an elderly woman in a house coat and slippers is sticking her head out the door and glaring at the door Kurt is leaning next to. Her name is Mrs. Alkin and she has lived next door since Blaine moved in. Sometimes Blaine watches her dog when she’s out of town, and that one week she had surgery on her knee after a tennis injury Blaine played caretaker and helped her get around on her crutches.  
  
“Kurt, what on earth is going on?” She snaps irritably. Kurt gaps at her for a moment surprised she remembers his name, they’ve only met once that he can recall. Mrs. Alkin’s irritated scowl bleeds away into something more concerned when something thunks against the door. “Should I call the landlord?”  
  
“I’m sorry about the noise,” he apologies, his thoughts on whatever hit the door and already reaching for the handle. “I’ll go in and-”  
  
But Kurt never gets the chance to. The door comes flying open and Jeremiah comes storming out, coat and a hastily stuffed overnight bag in hand. He’s looking over his shoulder, still focused on Blaine who is following behind him.  
  
“… and when he does I’m not taking you back!” He shouts and then he turns and almost runs into Kurt who he clearly doesn’t expect to see standing there. For a moment the other man looks stricken and Kurt can almost feel sorry for him but then he turns to Blaine with tears in his eyes and venom in his voice and says, “you’ve got your whore waiting on our doorstep. You’re a real prince Blaine, I’m sorry I ever met you. I’d tell the whore to enjoy his victory fuck but right now I honestly think I’m getting the better end of the deal.”  
  
Jeremiah only stays long enough to watch Blaine’s face as that blow lands and then he pushes roughly past Kurt, stomping towards the stairs. The three adults left behind watch, as if they’re frozen in place, until he disappears.  
  
Kurt’s cheeks are burning with a heady mix of fury and embarrassment. Blaine looks like he has been punched in the stomach, like a dog that brings its master a bone only to be kicked violently away. Kurt has had more people than he can count express that they wish him to hell and regret ever laying eyes on him but Blaine never has. Why would they? He tries so blasted hard to make other people happy.  
  
So even though Kurt wants to chase after Jeremiah and bitch him out, even though he wants to go hide somewhere where Mrs. Alkin isn’t watching him so shrewdly, he does neither of those things. He takes Blaine’s arm and rubs it soothingly and draws him away from whatever internal whipping he is undoubtedly giving himself.  
  
“If you listen to a word that carrot headed harpy said I will have to hurt you, Blaine Anderson.” Blaine smiles a bit shakily at him and Kurt squeezes his arm and tries to show him just how much he couldn’t be gladder that he met Blaine Anderson and got this end of the deal. “You deserve to be happy.”  
  
“I’ve never broken someone’s heart before,” Blaine responds quietly and before Kurt can even respond to that Mrs. Alkin makes a scathing sound.  
  
“Nonsense Anderson, my granddaughter hasn’t suddenly developed an interest in tennis just because she wants to spend time with me. I thought the silly girl was going to burst into tears when I told her you were taken.” The old woman smiles ruefully at the memory before narrowing her eyes at Blaine. “You get a little knocked around in love, that’s life and your ex fiancé can just yank that stick out of his ass and deal with it like the rest of us or not, but one mistake doesn’t mean you don’t deserve any happiness of your own.”  
  
The two men gape at her and Mrs. Alkin smiles warmly at them for just a moment before she’s back to scowling.  
  
“Don’t stand in the hallway with your jaw on the floor like a moron. Take your Kurt and be happy, have that victory fuck. If I have to listen to a bunch of racket coming through the wall I’d rather it be entertaining.” With a wink she leaves them there staring after her and strides back into her apartment, muttering something about better not having missed Kitchen Nightmares.  
  
“Wow,” is all Kurt can come up with after a moment.  
  
“She’s something else.” Blaine agrees with a rueful smile of his own. “I promise she’s not crazy, she just has a lot of fun playing the I’m old so you can’t get mad card. She’s sharp as a tack sometimes but then will act completely senile just because it amuses her. I think she’s lonely a lot of the time.”  
  
“Not with you as a neighbor I’m sure,” Kurt murmurs leading Blaine inside and closing the door quietly behind them. “And she remembered my name after all this time can you believe that?”  
  
“Well…” Blaine flushes a little pink. “We had a lot of time to talk that week I took care of her.”  
  
Kurt grins at hearing that, sitting down on Blaine’s couch with a flounce as he teasingly asks, “And you couldn’t help but talk about me huh?”  
  
“Yes, Mr. Humble, I talk about you to helpless old ladies.” Blaine sits down beside him and pokes him in the rib but Kurt’s smile just gets wider.  
  
“Because I’m _your_ Kurt?”  
  
“Because you’re mine.”  
  
“If this entire exchange didn’t have enough sugar to make a peep weep, I’d tell you my heart was all a flutter.”  
  
“You’re a liar,” Blaine chuckles touching fingers just above Kurt’s heart and pecking a kiss on his cheek. “There are too flutters. Kurt, my, Kurt.” More kisses, this time longer and lingering, and more low laughter when Kurt gasps at the touch of Blaine’s tongue to the lobe of his ear.  
  
“I’m getting some irregular readings from your heart there Mr. Hummel. I might have to do some more tests.”  
  
“Before you examine my heart any further there doctor,” Kurt has to call on more will power than is seemly for such tame foreplay as this to push Blaine back. “Let’s check on yours. How do you feel?”  
  
As much as he’d love to forget the world and get lost in Blaine touches and maybe even have that victory sex that seems so highly recommended, he knows their attention needs to be elsewhere. You can’t share your life with someone for two years and cut them out in a day, especially not Blaine.  
  
“I want to kiss you.” Kurt pushes him back again.  
  
“I mean besides horny.”  
  
Blaine sighs and doesn’t pretend anymore like they aren’t going to have this conversation.  
  
“Well… if it’s possible to feel amazingly relieved, happy and awful all at once, something like that is about accurate.”  
  
“Tell me.”  
  
“He shouted, cursed both our names, threw a few things around, the usual.” Blaine shrugs as if it’s nothing but Kurt can tell it’s bothering him more than he’s letting on. “I’ve never been called so many four letter words in one day, I can tell you that.”  
  
“Feel free to ignore all of them, because you have it on my authority that you’re perfect.” Kurt feels his cheeks heat at the admission. He’s not used to being so sappy with someone. He hates stuff like this, but he can’t deny that he feels that way and Blaine’s need at the moment to hear it.  
  
“I cheated on my fiancé in every way but one and that’s only because you stopped me.” Blaine says and Kurt can practically hear him passing judgment on himself. “I’m not so perfect, Kurt.”  
  
“Perfect for me then,” Kurt shrugs. “Even superman was flawed Blaine. You’re a hundred percent human and still so perfect to me.”  
  
Blaine kisses him with hunger, with need behind his mouth, and Kurt meets him, holding on to him tightly and reveling in how much power comes with a kiss given by someone you love. He’s more moved by the pressure of these lips, the tug of these hands than he has been by the most skillful of a hundred others before and it all starts and ends with the fact that he loves the man he’s holding.  
  
“There was something else” Blaine adds pulling away reluctantly. “You know how I said he knew about what you do but I didn’t know how? Apparently he has this habit of going through my things, he found that text you sent on my phone, the one with your web address in it.”  
  
“Not all that surprised to be honest,” Kurt grumbles because of course Jeremiah wouldn’t be satisfied with controlling only a portion of what Blaine does, he’d want to have a hand in _everything_. Kurt places a soft kiss to Blaine’s shoulder because Blaine likes touch, and Kurt likes to touch Blaine, and it’s still making him a little giddy realizing that he _can_.  
  
“Yeah, well that’s not the end of it,” Blaine sighs. “It was him who wrote that awful review, Baby.”  
  
But even watching Blaine’s lips form sweet nothings can’t distract Kurt for long from the gravity of what he just said.  
  
Kurt’s head shoots up to look him straight in the eye. “He was the reason I had that whack job in my apartment in the middle of the night? The reason I almost gave up working? That unbelievable asshole!” Kurt tries to get up, maybe to run after Jeremiah and give him that bitching out he so wants to do but Blaine’s hand stills him.  
  
“No. Don’t. Believe me I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but I don’t want to push him right now or who knows what he’ll do. It’s all fresh and I don’t want him getting… vindictive.”  
  
“Vindictive? Jeremiah, the mad wine wielder? No, whatever makes you think that?” Kurt sneers with an eyebrow raised and Blaine rolls his eyes. “Be careful okay Blaine. He’s not going to be happy now that he has to tell everyone that he got dumped for a male whore. I can’t really see him letting this all go too easily.”  
  
“Don’t call yourself that,” Blaine chides gently. “I really do hate it when you do that.”  
  
“I know you do, but it _is_ what I am. And before you say that it’s what I do and not who I am, let me remind you of a day when we were having lunch and you saw another male escort and you said to me, ‘I’m sorry if it’s not politically correct but he has sex for money and that makes him a whore’. It’s what we call people who have sex for money, Blaine.” Kurt reminds him. It’s not an accusation, and there is no bitterness, it’s just a statement of fact.  
  
“Yeah well... it wouldn’t be the first time I said something really stupid.” Blaine looks away guiltily, and Kurt can tell the reminder of that lunch so long ago is playing on his mind even though they should be celebrating.  
  
“Hey, we’ve all done that,” he whispers reassuringly, taking hold of his chin and turning him so they’re face to face. “Look at me. I’ve said…hundreds of things that I didn’t really mean, mostly to you actually. And I for one am very lucky you’re so forgiving so I suppose the least I can do is return the favor.”  
  
Reason number seven for Kurt’s happiness: the way Blaine’s smiling at him right now. That smile has always been reserved for Kurt Hummel whether Blaine realizes it or not (he doesn’t). Blaine doesn’t smile like that for anyone else in the world.  
  
*****************************  
  
“So what now for Porcelain?” Blaine asks later that afternoon as they curl up together on Kurt’s couch to watch Casablanca. They’ve gone back to his place to unfinish packing and give Jeremiah time to get his stuff if he should decide to come back for more things. They are surrounded by boxes but neither of them care.  
  
“He calls Sue I guess,” Kurt muses out loud as Blaine’s fingers idly trace patterns on his stomach beneath his shirt. “She’ll have heard from Josh by now anyway so she’ll be waiting for my call. I’m sure she’ll be glad to have him back.”  
  
Blaine doesn’t remark on that and Kurt shifts in his arms so he can smile up at him. “I was already happy in my professional life before Josh even suggested the Marionettes; it was my personal life that left a lot to be desired. Now I can have both.”  
  
His brow furrows as Blaine fidgets uncomfortably. He knows Blaine better than he knows himself, and he can practically feel the tension pouring off of him. Maybe he isn’t as content with their situation as he initially made out.  
“Baby?”  
  
“How is this going to work, Kurt?” Blaine whispers unsurely, he’s quick to reassure when a look of horror crosses Kurt’s face. “No, I don’t mean us being together. I just mean with your job….you work nights and I work days. And what will you tell Sue and the clients about us? I love you, and I get that you don’t love any of them but...I have to be honest with you, it’s not going to be easy knowing all these other guys are touching you like that. And what about my family am I going to have to lie to my family-”  
  
The honeymoon phase is a beautiful magical time for any couple, but the thing is it can’t last forever. Reality will always work itself back in.  
  
“You want me to stop working?” Kurt realizes sadly, cutting him off before he can go even further. For a moment there’s anger, he wants to yell at Blaine because he promised him him better, but then there’s shame because what about Blaine? Doesn’t _he_ deserve better? He bites his lip. “Blaine, if you gave me an ultimatum then I’d stop. I’d choose you over any job every time. I know that now.”  
  
Kurt means it, he has never felt so right about anything than he feels about being in Blaine’s arms right now, so it puzzles him that Blaine looks so sad, like he doesn’t believe him.  
  
“I mean it Blaine, I love my job-at least I did before Marionettes. I think I’d miss it sometimes but you’re more important to me. I’ll quit if that’s what you want.” Despite the truth of his words he feels a little frightened. He fully expects Blaine to tell him that yes, quit is in fact exactly what he wants Kurt to do. Kurt _knows_ Blaine wants him to quit, that’s not a secret, and though Kurt has no idea what he’s going to do now, and the uncertainty of the future terrifies him, he’ll do it. For Blaine he would do just about anything right now.  
  
And you should know, this is a problem. A problem that thankfully Blaine can see.  
  
“I’m not asking you to quit,” Blaine finally says, quiet and gentle, and Kurt’s eyes widen in shock. “Kurt you be whoever you want to be, and I’ll be here for you.”  
  
“But you said you hate what I do.”  
  
“I know what I said, and I stand by it, I do hate the fact that you feel like this is all there is for you, but Kurt I _know_ you, and I have faith that one day you’ll see that on your own. You have this amazing spirit, this brilliant mind, and I’m not going to be the one telling you how to use either. You choose, you be exactly who you want to be, go for the things you want, and I’ll help you. That’s my job as the boyfriend isn’t it? I’ll help you however I can. I just wanted you to be aware of the issues so we can get through them, make this work.”  
  
Around the time that it sinks in that Blaine is not asking Kurt to leave everything he knows to face the unknown, that Blaine is not asking him to leave the thing that he has clung to and built upon for the last few years, Kurt also realizes that he’s not just _in_ love with Blaine. Love like people has different depths for different occasions and circumstances. But there is a love we read about in fairy tales, a love we taste in dreams. It is the greatest, the truest, and therefore only love. It’s another phenomenon that is wholly unexplainable. It’s as beautiful as it is terrible, for it ruins the heart.  
  
What Kurt Hummel just realized is that whether they last until one of them dies or they break apart days, months, or years from now, Blaine Anderson will forever be the man behind his eyes. He now understands that haunted shadow in Alex’s eyes better than he ever has before and his heart breaks at the hopelessness of it.  
  
“Blaine, are you sure? Be sure, because it will be hard. And... and I can’t lose you again.”  
  
“You won’t. And I told you. It isn’t about me. We’ve got our problems but what couple doesn’t? This Kurt is about you and I’m going to fight for you tooth and nail.”  
  
“My biggest fear isn’t quitting my job Blaine, it’s hurting you again. I couldn’t bear it.”  
  
“That’s not going to happen.” Blaine sounds so sure that Kurt can’t help but believe him. “We’re both different people now, older and hopefully wiser. We won’t make the same mistakes again, neither you nor I.”  
  
They settle back against each other, watching the men and women move back and forth on the screen in soothing black and white.  
  
“You know what I realized when we were with Carl and Greg?” Kurt asks after a time. “If I hadn’t screwed things up we could have been together for over five years.” Together just like this with so much ease and so much comfort and none of the pain and confusion of the last five years.  
  
“It took two people to break up that relationship you know. You can’t blame it all on yourself. We were kids, and we made a lot of stupid mistakes, and we’ve made more now that we’re stupid adults. But no matter how many fights we have Kurt or what I say when I’m angry or just being dumb, I love you and I’ll make you remember. Maybe I’ll just start a tradition, I won’t go to bed at night without kissing us both back to our senses.” Blaine emphasizes his point by pulling Kurt down for a slow, lazy kiss.  
  
God Kurt loves kissing him, he cannot get his brain to wrap around just how much he loves the press of Blaine’s lips against his, how firmly they push and yet they are everything tender and soft. But he quickly wants more, and what Kurt wants, when it comes to sex at least, Kurt gets.  
  
This time however it appears that he’s out of luck. As they continue to kiss Kurt takes hold of Blaine’s wrist and places it on his ass encouragingly, and Blaine snaps his hand back like he has been burned.  
  
“Kurt…” he starts. Kurt can tell from the tone that he’s not going to enjoy this conversation.  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt whispers seductively against his neck. “I want you so badly.”  
  
“It’s too fast,” the other man insists patiently, gently removing Kurt’s face from his neck so that he can look at him. Kurt’s face can only be described as disbelieving. Too fast? This is coming from the person who practically dry humped him when they did that foursome?  
“I want us to take things slowly.”  
  
“Blaine…we’ve already slept together – many times.” Kurt does not understand why they aren’t already naked by now.  
  
“And look how that ended,” Blaine points out. “We made the transition from friends to lovers in literally the space of an orgasm and in the blink of an eye we broke up. I don’t think we should be rushing back into bed again.”  
  
“Unfortunately you make sense.” Kurt grumbles. He has to admit that Blaine’s made a good point, but that doesn’t mean his cock is happy about it or anything.  
  
“And I know you don’t like to think about it but Jeremiah and I were in a relationship for a long time,” Blaine continues as they lay back. This time their positions are reversed. He’s the one snuggling into Kurt and resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder. “As much as I’m glad we’re finished I think I should take time to adjust.”  
  
An even better point. Kurt sighs. “I know I’ll regret saying this, but sometimes I wish you hadn’t grown up so much Mr. Anderson.” Kurt leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not ready for, you mean too much to me. I’m already happier than I have been in years.”  
  
“Really?” Blaine asks softly with a face splitting grin.  
  
“How could I not be?” Kurt sighs in contentment. “You’re my fella, my guy.”  
  
“Did you just quote Amy Winehouse at me?” Blaine asks in mock horror, pinching Kurt’s side.  
  
“Oww. Do not pinch Blaine!” Kurt cries out, elbowing him in retaliation. “I take back anything I said about you being an adult. You’re lucky that I can’t withhold sex as punishment.”  
  
Reason number eight: for Kurt’s complete and total state of bliss: with Blaine, sex doesn’t even seem that important.

 

****************

 

“And that was _two_ weeks ago!” Kurt exclaims as he walks along explaining his predicament to Alex, who has remained his friend despite the letdown of learning that Kurt is with Blaine now. Kurt is not going to be the one he learns to love again with, and Kurt had been fearful that Alex would rather not see him anymore but when Kurt had told him the Englishman’s response had been a simple, “Well, I saw it coming. I just thought you were worth the 1% chance.”  
  
Kurt was so relieved that Alex still wanted to be his friend that he almost wished he could be. He has an early new year’s resolution now, finding Alex a non-dysfunctional boyfriend who isn’t a closet case, a prostitute, or addicted to drugs. The poor guy seems to _really_ know how to pick em.  
  
“So the two of you have had no nookie at all?” Alex asks.  
  
“I’m so sexually frustrated right now I’ll ignore the fact that you just said nookie.” Kurt gives him a side eye. “We spend hours kissing, so much that my lips feel like they’re going to fall off, and we stay over at each other’s apartments. I seriously haven’t slept alone since we started dating again. We’ve seen each other naked, and may I just say-- I like Blaine’s 27 year old body even better that his 21 year old body-- but no nothing! We share a bed and it takes all my willpower not to just turn over and beg for it.”  
  
“Have you actually tried that?” Alex asks with only the barest hint of his amusement showing through. “Because if you have and he’s still saying no then I regret to inform you your boyfriend might be straight Kurt.”  
  
“Shut up.” Kurt barks a laugh. “Seriously, why do we need to go this slow? We’ve known each other for years so it’s not like we need time to get acquainted. It’s hard finding things we _don’t_ know about each other. But he keeps holding back and I’m losing my mind.”  
  
“You’re still working aren’t you?” Alex asks a bit hesitantly. “Doesn’t that take any of the edge off?”  
  
“You’d think so.” Kurt sighs. “The thing is I want him more than I’ve ever wanted _anyone_ which is just pathetic, and I think it’s starting to affect my work. I don’t enjoy the sex nearly as much as I used to because it’s not him. I swear I don’t even see their faces anymore and sometimes I have to resort to biting my lip to prevent myself calling out his name! It’s ridiculously unprofessional.”  
  
“Do you think that’s the problem, you escorting?” Alex asks the loaded question and its release is actually a bit of a relief for them both.  
  
“I don’t think so, he said he’d never ask me to stop, he was really insistent on that point.”  
  
“Maybe he just thinks you’ll be too tired after work,” Alex suggests.  
  
“Believe me, when it comes to him I’m always up for it!” Kurt insists.  
  
“I don’t mean that, I mean….what is it that he does?”  
  
“He’s an financial analyst for a major record company.”  
  
“Okay I can’t relate to that at all” Alex says, pulling a funny face and Kurt laughs. “It’s like… My brother here in the states; he’s a dessert chef at this lovely café-bar in Manhattan. He makes _the best_ Amaretto cheesecake in the world, but after he has been baking all day the last thing I’d ask him to do when he got home is make me one, and I _love_ his cheesecake.”  
  
Ah, now Kurt can see what he’s getting at. “Maybe that’s it, but I think it’s something more. Every time I bring it up he gets really tense, like he’s afraid and it just doesn’t make any sense.”  
  
“Well you guys haven’t been together in years so that’s understandable. I mean, if my brother hadn’t made cheesecake for four years he’s not going to rush right in and make it for the Queen. You’re the queen in this metaphor by the way and sex is the cheesecake.”  
  
“Will you stop talking about cheesecake!” Kurt laughs. “It’s inhuman to give this much conversation time to a dessert.”  
  
“If you think that then clearly you haven’t tasted Caleb’s cheesecake,” Alex sighs wistfully, and Kurt laughs again when the other man’s stomach actually growls.  
  
“At this rate I might have to turn to comfort food to stave off my cravings. What is my life right now Alex? I hate monogamy, and I’m an escort for god’s sake. I have fantastic sex every day and now everything is bland because I’m ridiculously horny for one person. It isn’t fair.”  
  
“You need to talk to him,” Alex tells him seriously. “Find out what the problem is, I know you’re fairly inexperienced with them but FYI it’s what people in relationships are supposed to do.”  
  
“And I’m in a relationship, now. Oh god. Just saying it makes me nervous.”  
  
Reason number nine for Kurt’s complete and total happiness (if not the aforementioned state of bliss): Blaine makes him re-evaluate who he thought he was, for the better.  
  
*********************************  
  
His boyfriends surprising lack of desire for physical intimacy is not Kurt’s only problem, and neither is the need to find Alex a nice dependable boring boyfriend who nothing overly dramatic or exciting will ever happen to.  
  
This story and my telling of it may have you convinced that the world is cruel and never intentionally kind. Make no mistake, the world can be an en extremely tough place to live in. There is great beauty but you must not deceive yourself into forgetting that it comes matched with great pain. The key to surviving it is not to forget the beauty. Life can be incredibly kind and equally forgiving to those who wait it out.  
  
Kurt has suffered, perhaps more than most but certainly less than some, and still he is wholly loved and his days now seem so bright as to be resplendent. This is all a state of mind of course, but love has a way of putting one in such a state of mind. He’s a man in love and therefore his days are bright.  
  
Kurt had another friend once, a man named Brian who was an escort who showed a lot of promise until he ran into one client by the name of Jason. Remember him? Well, Kurt is not so selfish that he has completely forgotten about Brian, and rather than distract him, on the contrary, his new found state of bliss (minus the sexual frustration) with Blaine has made him all the more aware of what a poor friend he proved to be to Brian. Love has a way of making us see our faults in the kindest way, the way that empowers rather than cripples.  
  
To be fair Brian has not been the best friend to Kurt either, but if Kurt has learned anything in the past few months it’s the importance of forgiveness.  
  
But getting Brian alone these days is more difficult than Kurt has expected. He is no longer a top escort which means he’s not in the same weekly meetings as Kurt is and he has to take a lot of the late night clients. Kurt has even gone to his apartment a few times but Brian has never been in when he is free to do so.  
  
But life, as it so often does, has decided to be kind and wishes to offer both Kurt and Brian a chance. This is a rare moment, and I promise, soon you will understand why this means so very much to Kurt, and why it will be the making of Brian. This particular day Kurt is at a hotel and he is with one of his regular clients, a man named Drew who is the producer of a reality TV series who claims that every escort he has been with has been more sane than all of his ex-wives put together.  
  
Drew has paid for the entire night but he rarely makes it through the whole thing because his girls- as he calls them- tend to be of a pretty dramatic breed and there’s always some emergency to see to and diva to placate. True to form, Drew gets a frantic call from his assistant in the middle of the night and has to leave. What is so out of the ordinary is that as Drew is throwing his things together, Kurt gets a call of his own.  
  
 _“Porcelain, you haven’t heard from Darcy Potter have you?”_ Sue asks from the other end of the line.  
  
“No...Should I have?” Kurt asks; he’s confused. Sue knows all about their falling out, he’s not sure why she thinks he and Brian are still in regular contact.  
  
 _“He had an appointment at the Gracen earlier in the evening. He’s damn lucky he got it too with his performance lately, and how does he repay me for my kindness? He pulls a disappearing act. His client calls me in a rage about his poor performance, he hasn’t checked back in and he’s not answering his cell phone! The boy’s weak, a sloppy failure but I never expected this.”_  
  
“So he’s been missing for about six hours? Sue, he could be hurt. Have you sent someone to the room?” Kurt asks, his mind immediately picturing Jason’s face. There is a lot that can happen to an escort alone with a stranger. The danger is all a part of the job, but it’s a rather hefty price to pay for somebody elses sickness.  
  
 _“Of course not, I don’t send the national guard after you every time you decide to ditch me for that hobbit of yours do I? I have been waiting for him to decide he feels like doing his job so I can cram it down his throat and kick him the hell out of my agency. Now I am sufficiently worried enough to call you, who conveniently happens to be at the Gracen. Any more stupid questions?”_  
  
“What room number?”  
  
Kurt is not sure what he’s expecting when he knocks on the door of room 419. His heart has picked up pace, and there is that bitter laced sort of anticipation pooling in his blood that comes with facing the unexpected. There’s no answer behind the door at first so Kurt knocks again, this time calling Brian’s name. Just when he figures that the room must be empty he hears the latch on the door move and the door itself slowly opens.  
  
Kurt feels a rush of relief when he sees Brian standing in the doorway, but the relief is short lived. Something is wrong, and there is no obvious indicator but the feeling settles over Kurt with all the certainty in the world. Brian is shirtless and the bruises on his body look ugly but they’re obviously old. Kurt winces at the sight of the healing scars that mar the right side of his chest. They are long and thin, too neat to be anything other than intentional cuts and they look as if they were intended to hurt.  
  
“Brian. Thank god. Look you need to call Sue right away...” Kurt begins but Brian doesn’t seem to be listening. His eyes aren’t even focusing on Kurt. Judging by the way his pupils are blown and the glassy look to his gaze, Kurt isn’t sure he’s focusing on anything that Kurt can see.  
  
“Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. It’s my friend Kurt. You still sound like an angel. I always liked that. Have you come to sing for me? I’d like that.” A slow wide smile has spread over Brian’s face but it doesn’t look right. The movement is stuttered, like his muscles are rusting machinery, like the circuits somewhere aren’t connecting and his wires are shorting.  
  
As Brian moves back and waves him inside, like he’s ushering in royalty, Kurt observes his slow fumbling movements with a glare, fear creeping inside.  
  
“Are you high Brian?”  
  
Brian laughs and Kurt gulps in alarm at the gaspy sound of it; the way Brian can’t seem to catch a breath or take in more than a quick shallow gulp of air is frightening.  
  
“The very highest. I dwell in the heavenly places. It’s my favorite place to be.” Kurt’s frown deepens. He’s not all that familiar with drugs beyond the occasional experiment in college. A drugged out prostitute is hardly unheard of, but Sue has a strict anti-drug policy for her cheerios.  
  
“Are you serious, Brian!” Kurt marches over to grab his arm and pull him towards the bed. “Do you know how close you are to getting fired already? Sue is going to kill you. Sit down.”  
  
He pushes Brian towards the bed, and Kurt is irritated so maybe he was rougher than he intended, but certainly not rough enough to send Brian crashing to the floor, but down he goes just the same, hitting his head with a loud thunk.  
  
“Shit! Oh my god, I’m sorry.” Kurt’s at his side in an instant. He gingerly lifts Brian’s head and feels the lump already forming there. There’s even blood, and though there’s a lot of it and Kurt’s heart is pounding again, he tries to remind himself that head wounds bleed heavily without always being serious. He should be in pain but Brian doesn’t seem to have felt the blow, he doesn’t so much as groan. He’s actually struggling to sit up as if he merely tripped on the rug and didn’t just split his head open.  
  
Kurt doesn’t know what he’s seeing, he has seen people high before but never to the point where they are bleeding all over themselves and they are so disconnected from the world that they don’t even feel it. What the hell is the other man on? Should he take him to the hospital? If he does....it means Brian’s job and Kurt doesn’t want to be responsible for him losing it if it’s all he has.  
  
“Okay. Okay. Could you just...just sit still for me okay. Don’t move.” Kurt goes into the bathroom and grabs a couple of towels. He wrinkles his nose at the heavy smell of vomit in the air as he loops one over his arm. It’s as he’s wetting the other that he sees the empty syringes in the trash.  
  
“Heroin. You’re doing heroin? Are you absolutely insane!” Kurt demands as he marches back into the room.  
  
“Yes. I think so,” Brian answers, only he deliberates over each word like it takes great thought, and his voice is muddled like his mouth is full of marbles.  
  
“For how long?” Kurt demands, and though his voice is sharp, his hands are gentle as he wipes away the blood with the wet towel. “Answer me Brian.”  
  
“First time.” Brian mumbles quietly as Kurt applies pressure to his wound.  
  
“Last time,” Kurt commands. Brian laughs again and the sound is just as alarming as before. Kurt places a hand to the taller man’s heaving chest and frowns. He’s definitely not breathing normally. His breaths are far too labored.  
  
Kurt feels sick, and he aches inside remembering the smiling young man he’d befriended all those weeks ago. Jaded yes, but full of promise, and so damn smart too.  
  
“Why? I mean I don’t get it. What makes someone as smart as you are Brian shoot poison into their veins?” Kurt asks as he gently wraps Brian's head in the dry towel. His eyes sting.  
  
Brian sighs softly but doesn’t answer immediately. His hand slowly comes up to trace the scars on his chest and it’s then that Kurt notices that the scars on form the shape of the letter J.  
  
“It’s the scars,” Brian mumbles.  
  
“Did Jason do this?” Kurt asks tentatively, biting his lip and trying not to let his overly emotional state show. He can’t afford to lose his head right now.  
  
“I think the devil did. He always does. He doesn’t like angels Kurt. You should hide.” That sounds like nonsense and Kurt is about to suggest he get into the bed when Brain reaches out and touches the corner of his mouth.  
  
“He cut out your eyes.” As Kurt’s eyes widen, uncertain of how to respond to this and a little fearful of Brian in this state, Brian nods knowingly. “You’ve got scars there, and you’re the only one who can’t see them.”  
  
Kurt has never cared for someone strung out on heroin before, but other than the bump on his head Brian appears to be fine. Kurt is worried about the breathing though, and truthfully he’s worried about what Brian will do if left to his own devices, so Kurt helps him into bed and prepares to stay the night to watch him. He’s still uncertain whether or not he should seek medical attention for him but he’s worried about the long term effects.  
  
Brian is pretty much alone in the world and if he’d been desperate enough to shoot himself up to numb himself to the memories of his night with Jason, Kurt can’t imagine that losing his job over it is going to help all that much and then he’ll be completely out of reach with no one to help him.  
  
Kurt goes into the bathroom and calls Sue. He tells her some bull shit story about finding Brian passed out and him running a fever. When she starts going on about weak links in the chain and cutting him off, Kurt mentions his scars and how some of them look like they might be infected, and perhaps that’s the reason he’s so ill. Sue isn’t happy when she hangs up but Kurt is relatively sure that Brian will still have a job come morning.  
  
Kurt leaves the bathroom and halts in the doorway when he hears Brian softly singing. In his state it can hardly be called that, but there is something about the low halting sound of his voice that catches Kurt and makes him stand still.  
  
 _“...the little cracks they escalated. Before we knew it was too late for making circles or turning around. You’re moving too fast for me, I can’t keep up with you…. Maybe if you slow down for me I could see you’re only telling lies lies… breaking us down with your lies lies lies… when will you learn?”_  
  
Brian starts to sob quietly, the song merging seamlessly with the sound of his hitching breaths as if one had sprung from the other.  
  
Have you ever genuinely heard the sound of mourning? Not the composed sniffling or the choreographed symphony of tears we hear in movies, but the genuine cry of someone who has suffered inconceivable loss. Sometimes it is loud, sometimes it is quiet, but always it breaks the heart of those who hear it. It is too naked, too bare not to be a thing shared. It’s pain so stark it can’t be ignored and it says to all of those that hear ‘here I am. I am all that can be felt right now’. And if you have a heart, then you do. Heart is not something that Kurt lacks.  
  
Kurt goes to the bed and sits at Brian’s feet. He does the only thing he can do and rubs comfort into his legs, lets his pain fill the room and settle over him, sharing the burden. As Brian drifts off to sleep Kurt gathers his knees to his chest and listens to the sound of his breathing, trying to numb himself to the desperate ache in his chest.  
  
“Don’t do it again, okay. Whatever you don’t think you can deal with...whatever memories haunt you. Call me okay, just don’t...don’t do this to yourself.”  
  
“Why?” the sound of Brian’s voice startles him. Kurt had thought he was too out of it now to comprehend.  
  
“Because that’s what friends do. They’re there for their friends when they’re intent on poisoning themselves to death.”  
  
It’s so long before Brian answers that Kurt thinks he’s fallen asleep, and when he does it’s so quiet that Kurt almost misses it.  
  
“You’ll kill him you know.” Brian lets out a long shuttered breath. “Sometimes I think about what I did and what I couldn’t do and I want to kill me too. So I take another swallow…. We’ve all got our poisons Kurt.”  
  
************************************  
  
When Kurt returns home the following afternoon he is beat. He’d stayed up all night with Brian, followed by a full round of appointments in the morning, and true to their form lately, none of them had been enjoyable. He kept seeing Blaine, and wanting Blaine, and seeing Brian and hating all of his scars and the dead look in his eyes.  
  
He keeps hearing Brian tell him the devil cut out his eyes and left nothing but scars. He wonders what Blaine sees when he looks at him, if his own eyes look as haunted as Brian’s do. When Blaine stops by after work that evening Kurt wants to be held. He feels like he has been holding up the weight of the world all day, and it would be nice to have someone hold him for a change.  
  
Kurt loves the fact that he can count on Blaine to deliver this without any questions asked. Blaine sees his face, and then arms are opening, it’s that simple. They snuggle on the bed, and Kurt tells him about the awful night he had and Blaine listens. As Kurt drifts off to sleep he thinks that Blaine’s back rubs and kisses should be some sort of medicine.  
  
When he wakes he remembers he hasn’t cleaned up after work, his face is still made up and he has yet to do his nightly skin care regime, but more prevalent on his mind is he desperately wants more kisses from his boyfriend and everything else that goes with it.  
  
Kurt rises and scoots closer to where Blaine sits up in the bed reading a book. “Hi,” Kurt greets, kissing his neck. “I need a bath. Care to join me?”  
  
“I had a shower while you were sleeping,” Blaine answers flipping a page in his book. Okay, so maybe Kurt should be more clear.  
  
“Blaine, honey, listen to me. I want to take a bath, and we’re going to do it naked. It means tearing yourself from Dostoyevsky, but I might be able to come up with something to make it worth your while.”  
  
“I’ve already done my hair; I don’t want to get it wet.” Blaine replies.  
  
“Oh. Okay. You’ve gelled your hair. Well then.” Kurt’s tone is dripping sarcasm because seriously, how many more pathetic excuses does Blaine have? When your boyfriend doesn’t want to take a sexy bath with you because it will mess up his hair and you’re a girl then you should probably prepare for him to announce that he is gay sometime soon. When you’re both gay, then you might as well face the fact that he doesn’t want you.  
  
Blaine shrugs apathetically and doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He goes back to his reading as if anything about this interaction has been okay. Kurt is very tempted to march into the bathroom and come out with a bowl of water to toss on him, hair problem fixed, but he doesn’t think that will help anything. He decides on the mature conversational route instead. Sort of.  
  
“Do I repulse you?!” He demands to know, causing Blaine’s eyes to widen as he sits up in shock. “Because you broke up with Jeremiah over two weeks ago and you seem to have 101 excuses for why you won’t sleep with me. You won’t even take a bath with me and I’m pretty sure I could show up naked in nothing but my shoes and a tie and you’d still be sitting there reading! Call me paranoid but I’m taking it as a sign that you don’t want me.”  
  
Kurt tries to regain his breath once he has finished his rant, and to Blaine’s credit he never tries to interrupt or get defensive.  
  
As usual he just sits there and takes whatever Kurt throws at him. Kurt decides he doesn’t like that either. He’s not Jeremiah, he doesn’t want Blaine just to ‘yes dear’ him all the time. He wants Blaine’s opinions and reactions and...god he just wants Blaine and Blaine doesn’t want him and it’s because he spends all day with other men, he knows that, but Blaine said it was okay, said he would try to deal with it and that he’d support whoever he chose to be and.... and he can’t get Brian’s words out of his head. Is he Blaine’s poison? Is he somehow ruining him, ruining them, with all of his mess and his flaws?  
  
“Kurt, baby, relax. I think you’re hyperventilating,” Blaine soothes, rubbing Kurt’s shoulder. “I’m dating an escort. I’m the one who’s supposed to be paranoid. And maybe I am a little bit, but not so much that I don’t want to be with you. I trust you. I just don’t feel like getting wet right now. But, tell you what, you run the bath and I’ll sit with you. We can talk.”  
  
This doesn’t completely make sense, Kurt knows this, but here’s the thing about the honeymoon phase of things. It’s so easy to ignore the small signs of trouble.  
  
Reason number ten for Kurt’s complete and total happiness: He can throw a tantrum and Blaine doesn’t judge him for it, in fact he thinks that secretly Blaine might find it a little endearing.  
  
Kurt runs the bath and he’s so thankful the bathtub is something he splurged on, there’s more than enough room for two people inside. He sighs a little at what a waste it is, but it’s still nice to have Blaine sitting on the edge in his boxers, dipping his feet in occasionally as he bathes.  
  
“Sorry if I was a bit weird before” Blaine apologizes, blowing the bubbles in Kurt’s direction. “I just... I need more time to adjust to the fact that everyday my boyfriend goes out and works as an escort and then comes home to me. I _am_ okay with it, at least as okay as I ever can be.”  
  
“I know what I do isn’t ideal, Blaine.” Kurt replies softly reaching to lay a hand on the leg nearest to him in the water. “Just remember that it doesn’t matter what I do, I come home to you.”  
  
“It’s just going to take some getting used to I guess,” he sighs in answer. “But it’s like you said before, eventually it will become normal.”  
  
“I’ve never been the best at _anything_ before” Kurt says almost non audibly, gazing into the bath water. “But there are very few people better than me and I think that’s one of the reasons I want to stick at it. I...don’t really know what else I would do.”  
  
Reason number eleven: just the sound of Blaine’s voice makes Kurt feel one hundred times better.  
  
“I know.” Blaine agrees softly, idly running his fingers over the top of the water; a pensive look on his face.  
  
“There’s something else” Kurt observes once it becomes apparent that there are other things on his mind. “Tell me.”  
  
He looks back up at Kurt, so unsure of himself that it’s like rewinding nearly nine years to when that awkward eighteen year old first knocked on the door of Kurt’s dorm room and asked him if he’d like to study with him.  
  
“You have sex every day, with all sorts of different men, and I’m getting to grips with that. It’s just….with all this experience and variety, why would you want to bother with... I guess I’m just worried that because of your job I won’t measure up.”  
  
Now Kurt finally understands and he has to kick himself a little; here he was thinking it was all about him and what he does, but Blaine’s insecurities aren’t about Kurt at all, they are about himself.  
  
“Because it’s you,” Kurt says simply.  
  
“What?” Blaine asks in confusion.  
  
“You asked me why I want to bother with someone I’ve had before, who’s you. That’s the reason: because it’s you. I sleep with men because I’m an escort and that’s what we do. I sleep with you, because I’m Kurt and Kurt is in love with you and that’s what I want to do.” Kurt’s heart leaps as Blaine smiles in relief, and Kurt takes a deep breath.  
  
He’s in a state...he knows that, a state of highly emotional romanticized feelings and it has everything to do with being loved and returning love after so long without it. He gets that. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real, doesn’t mean what he says next isn’t a hundred percent truth. This honeymoon phase, it comes with so many powerful emotions and right now Kurt has the courage to say what otherwise would terrify him.  
  
“It’s the reason why...I want to come home and sleep, and not sleep, in that bed together. Because I want to belong to you completely...forever...as long as you’ll have me.”  
  
Kurt didn’t think it was possible for Blaine’s smile to get any bigger, but it does – ten times bigger. He yelps in sheer shock as Blaine slides off the side of the bath so that he practically lands in Kurt’s lap, sloshing bubbly water all over the floor. So much for worrying about his hair!  
  
“Forever, okay” he exclaims gleefully, placing butterfly kisses all over Kurt’s face. “I want you forever and ever, and ever and... god it’s ridiculous...I’m ridiculous. I want you so much. God where are your lips even... could you kiss me please, this isn’t working. ”  
  
Kurt can’t help but burst out laughing, shaking his head as he does so. He takes Blaine’s face in his hands halting his flailing limbs and awkwardly angled kisses that are landing everywhere on Kurt’s face _but_ his lips. And Kurt kisses Blaine and Blaine kisses Kurt and that kiss...Kurt can’t even judge Blaine for what he says next.  
  
“Can we just stay here, like this, and be together forever and ever and ever...”  
  
“Until we die a pruney death,” Kurt agrees.  
  
Despite the temptation of having Blaine on top of him in a bath of soapy water, they don’t end up having sex. Instead they curl up in front of the empty fire place and talk until they’re both fighting to keep their eyes open. Blaine has reminded Kurt that regardless of their history, they’ve only been back together for two weeks, which is a really short length of time.  
  
He gently points out that Kurt’s job has made him forget that in real life couplings don’t always occur as quickly as they do in business. Kurt has also realized that he has to give Blaine time to sort out his own demons, and that those demons may have nothing to do with him or what he does, and sometimes they might. And whether they do or don’t, they will reassure each other, but more importantly they each must have the time to work things out for themselves. It has to be this way or they will never move forward, they will never grow as people or as a couple.  
  
This relationship stuff, it’s way harder than even Kurt the cynic expected but wrapped up with Blaine by the fireplace he’s at peace just the same. They are hopelessly giddy in love with each other. It cannot be wholly explained with words, and it is not in the least rational.  
  
But you should know that despite that, it’s good. Incredibly so.


	13. Hurricane Regina.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kurt receives some tough love.

Kurt cracks one eye open, confused at the darkness that greets him. He checks the clock; it’s almost 2.30am, hours before either of them have to be up for work. It was a mutual decision to keep their separate apartments and not rush into moving in together, but they’ve spent the majority of nights at one place or the other. It’s always a little bit difficult to let go of Blaine (who leaves out earlier) so he can get ready for work in the morning. It seems as if Kurt misses his warmth almost as soon as he leaves.  
  
This morning though, Kurt is up long before he has to be and you should know he is not a morning person. He can’t figure out what woke him up from his peaceful sleep. He quickly discovers that Blaine himself is the reason. He is pressed flush up against Kurt from behind, placing soft kisses along his jaw line and neck, and more importantly, rock hard.  
  
Suddenly Kurt doesn’t mind being awake so much, and despite the fact that in a second either Blaine will come to his senses on his own, or Kurt will help him, Kurt can’t help but tempt them both. He can feel how hard Blaine is and rather than lean away he pushes back, rubbing against Blaine in one quick long stroke that elicits a low moan from him that Kurt is wholly pleased with.  
  
“I thought we were going to wait,” Kurt whispers as he turns to face him, although he’s not quite sure why he’s questioning things.  
  
“We started dating three weeks ago. That’s a month isn’t it?” Blaine asks.  
  
“Barely. And the conversation was last week. We can’t have made all that much progress in a week,” Kurt points out, because if they are going to take things slow and not rush things, three weeks just doesn’t sound quite that impressive.  
  
“I know, but I can’t help it,” Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s lips. “I woke up and couldn’t fall back to sleep. So I just lay here, watching you. God you’re so beautiful Kurt, I don’t think there’s a minute that goes by that I don’t want to touch you like this.”  
  
Reason number one for Kurt’s continued happiness: Blaine makes him feel like the most treasured person in the world.  
  
If Blaine is banking on Kurt being the responsible one who reminds him of all the reasons why they shouldn’t, he doesn’t make it at all easy on him. Kurt practically whimpers as Blaine’s mouth roams down his neck and over his collarbone, covering his skin in quick pecking kisses and little love bites, but Kurt does give it a try, he really does.  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt’s voice wavers as Blaine’s hands wander lazily down his side. His mouth seems to have found a place just below his ear that it particularly enjoys. Kurt enjoys it too and his thoughts are becoming increasingly hard to hold onto with each passing moment.  
  
“Blaine...” Kurt tries again, because the whole waiting thing seemed really important last week and it should be important now. It doesn’t feel like it though.  
  
 _“So dear to me. Always keep me company. Who needs to go outside. I will be your silent bride. I can’t take my eyes off you.”_ Kurt doesn’t think he’s breathing as Blaine sings the words against his skin. It’s truthfully little more than a whisper between them in the dark. His voice is too low, too throaty really, not at all in Blaine’s usual register but something about the way Blaine almost growls the words makes Kurt not care. Even his musically critical mind thinks he has never heard Blaine sound sexier.  
  
The moon shining through the curtains is the only light, and sometime when his brain isn’t so fuzzy Kurt will remember that he loves the way Blaine looks at 2:30am. He seems made out of shadows and bright patches of light and when he raises himself up to lean over Kurt, his eyes glittering in the dark are the most beautiful things Kurt has ever seen. If you haven’t figured it out by now, Kurt has given up on saying no.  
  
How can he when Blaine is touching him and growling sexy songs in his ear? It’s not fair really. But it’s also kind of wonderful, because Kurt knows that as he pushes Blaine onto his back that he’ll go willingly, that his eyes will darken further and goose bumps will raise on his skin as Kurt leans over him and returns the favor.  
  
 _“So maybe you’re not as real as the others. But I choose you over all my past lovers. For they have come and they have gone,”_ Kurt sings as he kisses the shell of Blaine’s ear and when he shivers beneath him Kurt smiles and takes the fleshy part between his lips and bites. It’s quick and gentle but by the way Blaine gasps Kurt knows he enjoys the slight sting. Kurt chuckles, not hiding his smugness as he finishes his favorite verse in the old song, _“But I can always turn you on. I can’t take my eyes off you.”_  
  
When Blaine starts laughing quietly it doesn’t do anything to break the moment. Kurt is laughing too because really, _only_ them.  
  
“Do you realize this is the second time in your life Blaine Anderson that you’ve tried to seduce me with an highly inappropriate song?”  
  
“Hey, Baby It’s Cold Outside is a classic-”  
  
“-song about a guy pressuring some innocent girl into sex, and slipping things in her drink.”  
  
“No, no it isn’t. It’s all in the context Kurt.”  
  
“And this song is all about a girl and her T.V.” Kurt goes on, ignoring Blaine’s arguments.  
  
“Well does it work?” Blaine asks with a small shrug and Kurt grins because he knows Blaine doesn’t need to ask. Kurt’s complaints mean nothing, he’s just contrite because he’s so easily seduced.  
  
Blaine smiles back at him. He pushes Kurt onto his back so that their positions are switched and he can lean over him again; they don’t say a word but their eyes never leave each other and their eyes say plenty. Once Kurt is horizontal he pulls Blaine down for a slow, deep kiss, opening his legs so Blaine can settle between them and feel just how hard he has gotten, how much he wants this.  
  
Blaine moans into the kiss as their clothed erections make contact, and the sound of it almost ruins Kurt. His hands can’t grab Blaine fast enough as he pulls him even closer against his body. Part of him is happy just to let Blaine take this as far as he wants to take it, the other part thinks Blaine might be waiting for Kurt to make the first move.  
  
There is a hesitation behind their hungry kisses, an uncertainty. What is good? What is allowed? Who moves first? The questions explode in Kurt’s mind quick as fireworks and they fade just as quickly. This time it needs to be on Blaine’s terms. It’s Blaine who has previously not been ready, Blaine who initiated, and it’s Blaine who needs to see it through. Kurt is more than glad to help him get there.  
  
Kurt is used to his partner being in control by now, and one of the reasons he’s so good at his job is that he can read what people need, and Kurt reads no one as well (or worse for that matter) as he does Blaine.  
  
As the kiss continues Kurt’s hand snakes down Blaine’s backside- exploring the hard angles of his body, stroking where hip meets thigh and up and over to squeeze the curve of his ass- before encouraging him out of his offending boxers. Once Blaine is naked he sits back and watches Kurt wriggle free of his underwear. Kurt now has no problem with Blaine’s song selection- he understands that girl and her T.V. because nothing in the world could make him take his eyes off of Blaine right then.  
  
The room is silent apart from their heavy breathing, and although they’ve been in this moment many times before, both their eyes are wide as they share the knowledge that this time it’s different. So much has changed between them already and sex will undoubtedly change things again. In good ways Kurt hopes.  
  
“Are you sure about this?” He asks Blaine gently.  
  
The other male nods immediately, but Kurt can’t help but notice his slight gulp and the way his demeanor changes. Suddenly he is anything but smooth or confident; he’s vulnerable in a way that he shows to very few people. Kurt treasures that.  
  
“Hey, it’s just me. Just Kurt,” he reminds him, taking Blaine’s hand in his and offering him wordless support. There’s no doubt in his mind that this is what Blaine wants- his body alone confirms that, Kurt can still feel him against his thigh- otherwise he wouldn’t press the matter. But Blaine worries that he somehow won’t measure up to Kurt’s expectations and if he only knew how silly that was, how he exceeds every expectation that Kurt has had for his life and his heart, then he would know he has no reason to worry.  
  
“I know.” Blaine admits with a smile and the slight way it trembles is endearing, but it tells Kurt just how very nervous he actually is. “The problem is you’ve never been just anything.”  
  
Kurt responds only with the squeeze of his hand. He watches as Blaine gets the bottle of lube out of the drawer next to the bed, and he smiles as Blaine struggles to open the admittedly complicated cap (someone somewhere had a laugh while designing it) with shaking hands. After a moment Kurt takes pity on him.  
  
“It’s okay. Just breathe for a second,” Kurt reassures softly, opening the lube and squeezing a liberal amount onto Blaine’s palm. “We’ve been together a month without so much as getting each other off, this is not going to be cotton candy and clouds here. We’ll be lucky if we last five minutes, but I promise, it will be the best five minutes either of us have ever had.”  
  
Kurt feels accomplished as Blaine laughs, even though he sincerely hopes he has underestimated their stamina. Blaine warms the gel between his fingers and takes a deep breath and Kurt hooks his hand around his neck and pulls Blaine down till their faces are so close that their lips are almost touching and they can feel each other’s breath.  
  
The first tentative touch against Kurt’s entrance is gentle. Kurt can’t help a slight sigh as he relaxes his muscles, feeling utterly content. He closes his eyes and unconsciously opens his legs wider.  
  
“Blaine,” he whispers breathily as Blaine pushes one finger into him. He lets out the tiniest of groans as his body accepts the intrusion. “More.”  
  
Kurt’s reaction spurs Blaine on, he pushes and he withdraws, pushes withdraws, and then he has two and then three fingers inside of him. As much sex as Kurt has on a regular basis he doesn’t need a ton of preparation but the feel of Blaine’s warm fingers inside of him is its own pleasure. Kurt almost laughs when he opens his eyes to see a look of sheer concentration on his partners face. He’s so determined to make this good for Kurt, and Kurt knows what he’s searching for. He smiles softly and tilts his hips ever so slightly until Blaine’s fingers make contact with his prostate.  
  
Pleasure jolts through his senses and Kurt nearly chokes on his next breath, his body jerking suddenly as Blaine expertly strokes his prostate, a small hint of pride on his face. Tension coils at the base of Kurt’s spine along with something hot like sparks and he pleads with groans and the clutch of his fingers into Blaine’s shoulders because as good as his fingers feel inside of him Kurt needs more.  
  
And still he protests with a gasp and a sound he isn’t that proud of as Blaine withdraws, but then he’s kissing Kurt again and Kurt’s thoughts all but disappear. Blaine goes to grab the condoms, but hesitates once he has one in his hand. Kurt lays beneath him, trying to catch his breath, trying to get his thoughts in order and figure out why they’ve paused.  
  
Blaine is just holding the condom, staring at it with all the intensity of a man trying to decide whether someone lives or dies.  
  
Oh...condoms...disease. Kurt’s brain is slowly putting things together. He’s a prostitute, and anyone who has gone through sex education knows the golden rule: you sleep with one you sleep with all.  
  
It hits him then that Blaine is in danger of catching whatever disease he might pick up from a client. He remembers a time when they’d been young, and sometimes in the heat of the moment they would come together and never once did they worry about playing it safe. They should have of course, but that’s the beauty of being with someone you trust, someone you know is with you and only with you.  
  
Now? Now Blaine would be downright out of his mind to even consider it. Any doctor would tell him so. It’s not a big deal just a fact, but Kurt still feels a sudden and unexpected flash of pain.  
  
“Blaine it’s okay,” he says, despite that, “It’s just a condom, we’d wear them even if I wasn’t... It’s the smart thing to do. I don’t want you getting hurt.”  
  
“I know we should use these, but I don’t know if I want to,” Blaine explains quietly. “So much has threatened to come between us and it’s stupid I know but I don’t want anything else between us. Not even something as thin as this. I just want you.”  
  
Reason number two for Kurt’s continued happiness: not only does Blaine trust Kurt with his heart, but with his body too.  
  
The fact that Blaine trusts him this much means the world to him even as it makes his chest ache. Because as sweet as it is, the plain reality is that it isn’t very smart, in any sense of the word. There is just no real way for Kurt to know if he isn’t carrying some STD right now. It’s a risk, a daily risk for Kurt and now a daily risk for Blaine.  
He can be relatively sure of his good health at certain points, now is one of them, and the likelihood that he’s carrying something that Blaine might catch if they should do this bareback is smaller than not and saying no… saying no right now feels weirdly like killing some small part of them. He wants it too he realizes, he wants to be able to love Blaine without anything between them, so why does it always feel like there’s an entire minefield?  
  
“I’m clean,” Kurt promises what they both know he can’t with any concrete certainty. “I was tested only four days ago. I’ve worked since then, so you should know that doesn’t mean very much. It’s your call. I want...” God how he _wishes_. Kurt swallows the lump in his throat before he can speak again.  
  
“I want you this way; but I don’t want to hurt you, ever.” Blaine smiles at him, soft and certain and Kurt can only marvel at his ability to seem so sure of himself in situations that are anything but in his control.  
  
“I’m clean too. I had a medical about two months ago…..Jeremiah and I haven’t really slept together since that night I worked with you.”  
  
Kurt’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, but even as he does he’s thinking that it doesn’t actually surprise him that much. Is it that shocking? To an outsider Blaine and Jeremiah probably seemed like the perfect couple, equally attractive, ambitious and successful. But to anyone who knew them, the cracks were there, visible for all to see. And knowing Blaine as he does, Kurt understands why Blaine would find it hard to sleep with Jeremiah after he’d gone to such lengths for Kurt, and come out and admit that he wanted to be with him more.  
  
As Blaine discards the condoms Kurt’s anticipation rises. Having absolutely nothing between them and the trust that involves (and yes even the prospect of danger) is exciting. It’s been years since Kurt has had sex without a condom, not top nor bottom, not with a single person. And now here he lies with Blaine, and it feels right, and he wants it so fiercely he wonders if he hasn’t wanted it for years.  
  
When did sex get so complicated? When did it start to feel this good, and this terrible all at once? Because there is a terror to it, the terror that he’ll actually give something to Blaine and...and Kurt would just hate himself then, because as much as it means to him that Blaine will work with him, that Blaine won’t make him quit, that Blaine wants to enter his body without barriers and shields- all of these beautiful sacrifices Blaine will make, all of his honey- there is still something inside Kurt that screams no.  
  
Blaine, _his_ Blaine should never work as a prostitute, should never step to the side for other men to take what is his just so that Kurt doesn’t break, should never have to take such risks with his body just to be close to someone.  
  
With every passing minute the gravity of their coupling increases, and it means more and more to Kurt. He looks up at Blaine as he lubes up and gets into position, and when he leans over Kurt and kisses him long and hard Kurt realizes that he feels the same.  
  
“Ready?” Kurt murmurs softly, gazing into his beautiful hazel eyes.  
  
“Ready,” he concurs, his voice the tiniest of whispers but the size of his smile more than makes up for it.  
  
Blaine takes a deep breath, before beginning the slowest of pushes into Kurt’s body, painstakingly cautious and sublime at the same time. A small part of Kurt wants to urge him on, but the larger part simply revels in the feel of Blaine inside him and drinks in the sounds he makes. Finally he’s all the way in, holding deadly still as they refamiliarize themselves with the feeling of each other. A million emotions flash through Blaine’s expressive eyes, and Kurt can read every one of them: relief, lust, nerves, excitement, joy- but most of all love. Kurt can only guess what Blaine reads in his eyes but he can’t imagine it’s any different.  
  
Kurt is full, stretched, and the burn inside is everything good, but it’s not enough; it’s possible nothing ever will be. To be as close as he wants to be, Kurt would have to crawl inside Blaine and disappear.  
  
“Move, move...please move” he implores desperately, hooking his ankles around Blaine’s waist to encourage him until he’s thrusting slowly but steadily. His mind takes him back five years and it occurs to Kurt that he has never forgotten what it’s like to have sex with Blaine. The sounds he makes, the glazed look on his face as he’s lost in passion, the way his fingers map the contours of Kurt’s torso almost reverently, even the throbbing of Blaine’s flesh inside him. He remembers it all. It’s everything it was before, only better.  
  
Unlike the majority of their previous unions this isn’t a fast, frenzied, affair. Their movements are slow, controlled to give them time to ingrain this moment in their memories forever. There are no curses or sounds of ecstasy, the only sounds are of their heavy breathing and the slapping of flesh.  
  
There are no acrobatics and no whispering dirty phrases in each other’s ears. Kurt was right before in the respect that this is going to be a quick affair. Each slow thrust into his body is aimed at one goal, pushing inside of him, and he clamps down around Blaine in mutual effort. Not to reach orgasm, not to feel pleasure-though those things are certainly present and coming quite quickly- but in pursuit of a higher and far more subconscious goal.  
  
Blaine and Kurt have been separated for a long time. Time and distance have ravaged them, and though it was self-inflicted it does not change the severity of the scars they now bear. The goal is simply this: to close the distance, to be together and be each other’s. To feel each other as if they are one and the same being.  
  
Part of Kurt wants to look away, the look of raw emotion in Blaine’s eyes is almost too much to bear, but he can’t. He can’t for himself, because his own face is twisted up with passion and pain, and his own eyes are bright and fevered and this is something he needs Blaine to see. Their gazes hold each other transfixed, forcing the other to feel every moment, and Kurt knows that he’ll be reliving this night for the rest of his life.  
  
“Are you close?” Blaine whispers frantically as his thrusts become quicker. Kurt wants this to last longer but they are both too caught up in the moment, they’re too raw and they’ve wanted it too long. It was never going to be a marathon session, but that doesn’t matter, nothing does but the push, the feel of Blaine sliding in and out of his body and the press of his lips on Kurt’s skin.  
  
“Yes!” Kurt pants in answer, reaching for his painfully hard cock only for Blaine to push his hand out of the way and take hold of it himself. Kurt cries out as his cock finally gets the stimulation it needs, and Blaine attempts to swallow the sound with his mouth. It throws the rhythm of his hips off but neither of them care. There is nothing synchronized or thoughtful about the way Kurt arches up into Blaine. He soars and if he has to fall he wants to ruin himself on Blaine.  
  
Blaine for his part seems intent on diving inside Kurt, pinning him to the bed, driving them both into the center of the earth until they meld together like iron. Or maybe just to burn up and cease to exist and either way, the getting there feels insanely good. Blaine thrusts down and pulls at Kurt’s cock, and Kurt pushes up and pulls Blaine down with grasping hands on his back. His fingers will leave marks, but they are marks that belong. As the familiar tension of orgasm approaches Kurt’s frenzied brain thinks that now their outsides will match their insides.  
  
“Kurt...Kurt..Oh God……Kurt!” Kurt wants to hear Blaine cry his name like that for the rest of his life. He feels godlike as Blaine shudders against him and his come fills him. The sound of Blaine’s voice, rough and wonderfully wrecked, is enough to push Kurt over the edge. He throws back his head calling out his name as he comes over Blaine’s hand and both their stomachs.  
  
Kurt pants heavily as Blaine all but crushes him toppling over him, another pain he doesn’t mind. His entire body tingles as they lay basking in the afterglow. It has been a long time since he has come that hard, and it’s extraordinary considering it was such a tame affair. It was certainly vigorous enough there at the end but compared to some of the things Kurt does with clients it’s practically child's play.  
  
Maybe that’s what happens when you fall in love; the imperfections don’t hold as much power. They just tried to consume each other like a pair of horny teenagers and it still feels like the best sex he has ever had in his life even though rationally he knows it’s not. Kurt’s starting to understand the concept of monogamy... not so much that he wants to give up work... but if sex is like that with Blaine every time... it would certainly be a tempting trade.  
  
Reason number three for Kurt’s continued happiness: Sex with Blaine is like an out of body experience, and they didn’t need a single whip or pair of handcuffs to get there.  
  
Though if Blaine ever wants to try any of those things he won’t have to beg Kurt.  
  
“Don’t go,” Kurt whines once he has recovered his senses and Blaine starts to roll off of him and out of him, which Kurt decides lazily is a no. With them not using condoms there’s no reason why Blaine can’t just stay inside him forever is there? It makes sense in Kurt’s brain. It might get a little bit uncomfortable but it’s a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.  
  
“Need to.” Blaine smiles apologetically, kissing Kurt’s saturated forehead. “ We’re too sticky. Plus I’m crushing you, don’t deny it.”  
  
“You are. And we wouldn’t have this problem if you didn’t insist on soaking every meal in butter and grease,” Kurt teases lightly as Blaine reaches for the tissues by the bed cleans them both up before curling up next to him, resting his head on Kurt’s chest so he can run his fingers through Blaine’s damp hair. Kurt just stares at him, touching him and watching the slick curls slide through his fingers. He already wants Blaine back inside him, but equally strong he just wants to stay as they are. He’d be content laying here until they turn to dust.  
  
“You’re fantastic. In case you’re still worried about it. I feel.... just unreal right now.” Kurt really doesn’t know how else to describe it.  
  
He doesn’t say anything but Kurt can tell that Blaine is smiling. Kurt’s content to just lie there with Blaine half on top of him, but there’s no way he’s falling asleep any time soon, too much has happened and truthfully he never wants this feeling to end. He’s so scared deep inside that someday it will.  
  
Then just when he thinks Blaine’s fallen asleep Blaine turns his head just enough to press a kiss right over Kurt’s racing heart.  
  
“I love you. Just breathe.”  
  
Then he does fall asleep, Kurt can tell by the way his breathing changes almost immediately. Blaine can’t hear him, at least Kurt doesn’t think he can, but he tells him anyway that he loves him too. The ease with which the words spill from his swollen lips is a constant revelation, one which he intends to relive again and again.  
  
There are thousands of reasons why being with Blaine makes Kurt happy. I could keep you here all day making endless lists and waxing lyrical. But this is a story about Kurt’s life and the making and breaking of it. Life as you know, though it can be quite beautiful, is also full of great hardship.  
  
*************************************  
  
As a lifelong advocate and frequent practitioner of casual encounters and one night stands, no one is more surprised than Kurt at how easy it has been to commit to a relationship. Being single for so long means of course that there are things that will take some getting used to, not the least being less self-involved and thinking about how his actions will affect his other half, both of which he has failed to do in the past. But for every one thing Kurt misses about his single life, there are five things that he loves about being in a couple. No, scratch that. Being with _Blaine_.  
  
It’s a shock, and it leaves Kurt feeling unreal, like he’s standing outside himself watching a different person pretend to be him. Only it’s not invasive, it’s not horrifying. It’s sad because he wants to really be that person but he can’t figure out how to make the two men meet.  
  
Blaine may have initially been apprehensive about engaging the physical side of things but even Kurt, a connoisseur of all things sexual, has been impressed with the speed at which they’ve thrown themselves back into the saddle. Less than a week ago Blaine resembled what can only be described as a nervous virgin, all but trembling at the idea of sex, but now he’s on top of Kurt on his sofa, his hands down the back of Kurt’s pajama pants as he alternates between sucking his neck and his nipple.  
  
It’s half past twelve on a Saturday afternoon and neither of them have bothered getting dressed for the day. What’s the point when it’s just the two of them? There is also of course the advantage of having fewer clothes to remove. It makes for a sublime existence, eating together, laughing together and in the blink of an eye pushing everything aside to get at each other.  
  
Kurt has more than once gone from reading a book or doodling in a journal one second to pushed back into the couch cushions or pinned to a table, all because Blaine likes the tilt of his head or the way he bites his lips when he concentrates. It’s a charmed existence, except when the rest of the world wants to intrude.  
  
Kurt sighs in frustration as Blaine’s land line starts ringing. He’d thoroughly been enjoying what had started out as a gentle make out session and has progressed to hot foreplay. Since he and Blaine became official Kurt has told Sue that he will no longer be working weekends; it’s not like he needs the money and there are several other boys who need the work much more than he does, plus weekends are typically a lot quieter than during the week since the clients can’t sneak off during work or use the excuse that they’re working away.  
  
“Leave it, let the machine pick it up,” Blaine orders dismissively, pressing his palm against Kurt’s balls and rubbing. As Kurt gasps and Blaine’s tongue attempts to dive down the back of his throat the answering machine takes the call, only for his mother’s voice to fill the room.  
  
It doesn’t seem to bother Blaine, he hardly reacts even, but to Kurt it’s kind of off putting.  
  
 _“Blaine ?!”_ Elaine Anderson’s stern voice comes from the answering machine. _“Blaine Everett Anderson if you’re there then you pick up this phone at once!”_  
  
Despite not having one for a good chunk of his childhood Kurt knows an angry mother voice when he hears it, and it’s definitely a mood killer.  
  
“You’d better take the call,” Kurt tells him resignedly as he pulls away. “You know it’s important if she pulls out the ‘Everett’.”  
  
Besides, they both know what it’s probably about. With his mother and sister planning the wedding Blaine of course has told them that he’s no longer engaged, but they’ve held off informing everyone that they are back together.  
  
It’s not that Blaine’s family wouldn’t be supportive, in fact Kurt’s sure they’ve been expecting this, but the Anderson’s are a lot to deal with on any occasion and they live so close that there’s no stopping them sticking their noses in everything and pointing out where they think things should go. That forwardness comes with having words like legacy and inheritance behind your name, but as much as Kurt and Blaine love his family they just need time to work things out on their own.  
  
But if there’s one thing Elaine doesn’t like it’s not knowing what her youngest, her baby, is up to.  
  
“Ugh, stop saying it. You promised we’d just pretend I didn’t have a middle name,” Blaine practically pouts and Kurt grins.  
  
“Everett isn’t that bad, it just...”  
  
“Belongs to an eighty year old man in wool socks and a tweed jacket,” Blaine finishes with a grimace and then he goes back to kissing Kurt and in between those hungry kisses he says, “given the option of fucking you and talking to my mother, I know what I’d rather be doing.”  
  
And Kurt’s back in the mood because, seriously, nothing is hotter than dirty words growled out of the mouth of Blaine Everett Anderson who is not an old man in wool socks despite the sound of things. He’s young and hot and he wants to screw his boyfriend into the couch cushions, and Kurt is glad to help.  
  
“Blainey the mama’s boy?” Kurt teases as he loosens the ties on his pajama pants. “I must be becoming a bad influence.”  
  
 _“Blaine this is no laughing matter! You have explaining to do and do not think for an instant I won’t show up on your doorstep! I’m barely keeping your father here as it is. I’ve just had a phone call from Regina, the poor girl is in hysterics, telling me that Jeremiah’s been telling Tyler you’ve shacked up with a prostitute. You pick up this phone right now!”_  
  
Blaine and Kurt stare at each other in horror before Blaine leaps off of him and scrambles for the phone.  
  
“Mom?!.....Mom, calm down!....of course I don’t want to embarrass anyone! Kurt is....No...mother AIDS is the last.... Well he’s upset I’ve called things off! I told you and Dad that weeks ago.....Well I can think of a few, Jeremiah is a vindictive little bitch!”  
  
Despite his distress Kurt can’t help but smile triumphantly at Blaine’s little announcement. It takes a lot for Blaine to speak ill of people, but it’s good to hear him stop defending Jeremiah’s bad behavior. He feels bad for him though because he’s in for it now.  
  
Elaine is well aware of her children's age, and she tolerates the occasional use of profanity in her hearing but not when one of them is in the hot seat. From Elaine’s end of things it looks as if Blaine has broken off his engagement not to be with his college sweetheart (which while not ideal is acceptable) but to mess around with prostitutes (not acceptable in any sense of the word).  
  
Elaine gets so loud on her end of the phone that Kurt can actually hear her enough to almost make out what she’s saying. Blaine winces and Kurt has to hide a smile as his head actually drops like he’s a six year old caught with his hands in the cookie jar.  
  
“I know I’m sorry…..no I don’t talk to everyone like that…..Mom, don’t listen to him…...because he’s a stubborn piece of work who you never liked anyway, and I’m your son…… because he knows I’m with Kurt again, he’s never liked Kurt!......of course he’s not a......I know it’s not something you lie about but he’s hurt and wants revenge!......I promise, I’m fine – I’m happy……I know Mom…..I love you too…..I’m sorry too, I should have told you…...can I go now?.....Mom I don’t need a lecture …..Because of this! Because it’s my life and I don’t want you, or dad, or Regina telling me how to live it...I know you don’t....I know, and I appreciate everything you do for me, but mother I have to live my own life even if you don’t always like it.”  
  
Kurt watches in bewilderment, trying to decipher their bizarre conversation from Blaine’s side of it. He’d thought once Blaine confessed that he was the reason that he and Jeremiah broke of their engagement that Elaine would understand. But it doesn’t sound as if she’s any happier. Kurt’s mood is rapidly sinking. Finally Blaine hangs up, shaking his head in aggravation and heaving a heavy sigh of frustration.  
  
“So what poison has Jeremiah been spouting?” Kurt asks quietly. He tries to smile.  
  
“What do you think?” Blaine shrugs apologetically. “Jesus, I remember the first time we met, it was wall to wall with gorgeous guys, why did I have to fall for the malicious, jealous and vengeful one?”  
  
“Because apart from me you’ve always had terrible taste,” Kurt teases, kissing Blaine softly as he traces the worry lines on his forehead. “I know you’re okay with what I do, but I hate that he can use it against you. I’m sorry you had to lie to your mother. She’s not happy you’re dating me is she?” Kurt means to ask the question as a clarification of simple fact, but it stings on his lips and something about the way it comes out doesn’t sound right in his ears. He has always been so close with the Anderson’s...  
  
“No she isn’t, but it’s not because of you,” Blaine assures him as they lean back against the couch. “It’s because she loves us. She loved you before we got together, and she loved you after we split and it’s because you’re my best friend and you make me happy. Of course she loves you. At first she was angry on your behalf, she actually yelled at me to think about how this would hurt you. And then I got the usual lecture about responsibility and the family name. She’s not stupid. Jeremiah telling people I’m hooking up with a prostitute is a pretty wild thing for him to make up, and a harsh thing to call you without some reason behind it. She’s just worried, just really worried.”  
  
“Telling Tyler was a low blow. He had to know Tyler would tell Regina, and after that there goes the neighborhood.” Kurt sighs, turning his head so he can look at Blaine. “I’m sorry he made you lie to your parents, and I’m sorry that it was about me. I know that was the one thing you didn’t want to do.”  
  
“I was planning on just….not telling them about your job” Blaine muses out loud. “But if Mom and Dad asked me directly if you were a prostitute, then I’d decided I would have to tell them the truth.... only I didn’t. Because it’s something they won’t understand, and I don’t want unnecessary pain for them or for you. I’ve surprised even myself at how easy it is to lie for you.”  
  
And that right there, is an incredibly hard thing to hear, and even harder for them both to accept.  
  
“I wish you didn’t have to,” Kurt answers softly.  
  
Blaine gives Kurt one of his _looks_. He has such expressive features, sometimes they are a bit out of control. This one says ‘stop that – I love you.’  
  
“Yeah well there are a lot of things that I wish I didn’t have to do, like worry about my psycho ex-boyfriend shooting his mouth off to try and hurt us. But I’ve come to realize that there are very few things that I wouldn’t do for you Kurt, and I don’t regret a single one.”  
  
Kurt raises his eyebrows in question as Blaine slowly eases him back until he’s reclining across the length of the couch.  
  
“Yes, and I want to do all sorts of things for you,” he whispers huskily as he places feather light kisses down Kurt’s bare chest and over his stomach. Kurt half giggles, half moans as Blaine snakes his tongue into his bellybutton; five years isn’t enough for Blaine to forget what that does to him, he knows Kurt’s body like the back of his own hand.  
  
“We were interrupted before,” Blaine murmurs as he reaches Kurt’s pajama bottoms, gently mouthing his clothed erection as a tiny moan escapes Kurt’s lips. His cock swells beneath the touches and he can practically feel Blaine’s smug smile pressing against him.  
  
“Talk talk talk.” Kurt attempts to sound bored as Blaine frees his aching flesh from its confines. He takes the root of Kurt’s cock in hand, and Kurt threads his fingers through his hair. “You should put your money where your mouth is.”  
  
“I have so many good jokes I could say right now, but I think you’d kill me if I took any longer at this.” Blaine teases, grinning up at Kurt before he takes the head of his cock between his lips. The way it feels is so good, but it’s too brief, not nearly enough. Blaine can be such a cock tease. Kurt hates it as much as he loves it.  
  
Blaine runs his tongue around the tip, collecting the moisture there slowly as if he’s reacquainting himself with the taste or savoring a fine wine. Just the look on his face is almost enough to get Kurt off, but not quite and he really needs more of Blaine’s mouth, and he’s just about to beg or kill him or something else when Blaine opens wider and swallows him in one smooth movement.  
  
Kurt’s breath comes out in a hiss as he revels in the feel of Blaine’s mouth, the pressure of his fingers as Blaine fists him, the wet slide of his tongue as it runs along the sensitive vein. He can’t hold back his moan, or the way his hips thrusts up into Blaine’s mouth in search of more stimulation.  
  
“Fuck....Sorry” Kurt gasps as Blaine gags; he wasn’t ready for that, but he should appreciate how difficult it is to keep still when he has such a talented mouth. And it’s not like Blaine isn’t doing his best to _make_ Kurt unable to sit still. Kurt feels himself rapidly losing control as Blaine reaches down to roll his balls in his palm, before venturing further to circle his hole with barely there touches, pushing in ever so gently. There is lightning crackling down Kurt’s spine and he’s so close to coming.  
  
Kurt grabs the side of Blaine’s face and pulls him up into a searing kiss, and the pressure Blaine puts on his cock as he settles between Kurt’s legs is enough to make him come hard against their stomachs, practically pushing Blaine’s name into his mouth as he keens.  
  
“I would have swallowed,” Blaine mumbles against his lips as Kurt slowly regains his senses. “One of these days you’re going to believe me when I say I’m not some shy virgin anymore.”  
  
“Shy, occasionally. Virgin, I think we’ve well and truly seen to that.” Kurt laughs, brushing Blaine’s hair from his eyes. Why? Because it feels good, because his fingers seem to love Blaine’s hair, because he can’t get over how good he feels with Blaine no matter what they’re doing, and stroking him like he’s some poodle is not an exception. “But, I just didn’t know if you were ready, or if you would even want to since you haven’t yet. I don’t want it to be like it was before, me pushing you into things you weren’t ready for.”  
  
“ _I’ll_ tell you what I’m ready for, don’t you try and guess,” Blaine chides him gently, kissing his forehead. Kurt groans as Blaine flexes his hips, brushing Kurt’s still overly sensitized cock so that he can feel how hard he is. “Right now I’m ready for _you_ if you’re willing to oblige me.”  
  
It’s sad that Kurt finds that statement so cute, it should be beyond cheesy. Blaine is such a... _Blaine_ , sometimes.  
  
“Me, willing to oblige you?” Kurt scoffs, not bothering to hide his amusement. “ Why I do declare. I’ve never heard a gentlemen be so forward with a lady. You’re making me blush. I should-”  
  
His face breaks into a huge grin as Blaine tackles his mouth with his lips and his side with tickling pinching fingers. They wrestle for a few moments before the kiss deepens and Blaine’s tickles turn into strokes. Kurt spreads his legs wider, laughing as Blaine fumbles around trying to locate where they’ve left the bottle of lube.  
  
Kurt decides the only thing better than having Blaine’s mouth on him is having his cock inside him. He’s absolutely a hundred percent convinced now; having the weekends off work is definitely the way forward.  
  
After continuing their steamy session on the couch they spend the rest of the afternoon lazing around Blaine’s apartment until Kurt’s lack of clean clothes (and refusal to start regenerating outfits) means they reluctantly have to join the real world and walk the distance to Kurt’s building, hand in hand no less. Kurt is sure that they look like one of those couples he has always hated, all grins, lingering touches, and smoldering eyes only for each other. It’s disgusting. They need to stop-- tomorrow.  
  
Right now they are pressed against each other as they take the lift up to Kurt’s apartment, doing the traditional ‘push away and pretend they weren’t doing anything’ action when his landlord Mr. Fink enters, smiling with feigned nonchalance. He offers Kurt a cheeky wink as he and Blaine exit on his floor. Mr. Fink knows exactly what’s going on with them, because it’s not rocket science. Kurt’s usually perfect hair is a mess, not to mention his buttons are askew, and he’s pretty sure that he’s bruised Blaine’s face sucking it so hard.  
  
Their make out session is doomed though, because when they round the corner they are met with a surprise. Regina is waiting perched in a fold up chair by Kurt’s door.  
  
***************************  
  
“I was hoping to catch you alone. I should have figured you two would be attached at the hip,” Regina remarks as she tosses her coat over one of Kurt’s kitchen chairs. She looks around the apartment, her eyes pointedly halting on a stack of those dry Russian novels that Blaine guiltily loves- a left over from those days of prestigious private schools. “Why do you two bother having separate apartments? It looks like Blaine’s pretty much moved in.”  
  
“We’re taking things slow this time around,” Kurt explains. He’s looking at Regina but he knows exactly what Blaine is doing as he hears him shut the front door and head into the living room without having to look. “Don’t you dump your coat on my floor, Blaine Anderson! I’m not your maid and this isn’t a barn.”  
  
“I wasn’t,” Blaine calls back.  
  
“uh-huh”. Kurt rolls his eyes.  
  
Regina doesn’t comment on this interaction. She watches him like a cat watching a mouse hole, and it doesn’t surprise him. The moment he saw her waiting in the hall he’d known what conversation they were going to have, and he isn’t going to run from it. It means a lot to him, Blaine trying to protect him from his family, but Kurt can’t be the reason he lies to people he loves. He has spent too many years doing that and it only brings pain.  
  
“I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out,” She finally says. “I know it’s not something your mind jumps to. When I thought to myself, why doesn’t Kurt come around anymore, why don’t Kurt and Blaine work things out, why is Kurt so busy and tired all the time? I can tell you my mind didn’t go ‘he must be a prostitute’. And yet I’m looking at you now and I don’t even need you to tell me.”  
  
“But you’re going to ask anyway,” Kurt predicts, busying himself putting a pot of coffee on. Not because he fancies anyone will drink it, but because it’s a conversation that will be rough for both of them and sometimes things are just easier when you have something physical to do.  
  
“Yes I am. So tell me. Did Jeremiah tell my husband the truth; did Blaine dump him for a whore?” Kurt winces at the word but he isn’t going to argue the point. It’s what he is.  
  
“Blaine left Jeremiah to be with _me_ Regina, something you’ve said yourself he should have done a long time ago. I happen to work as an escort, Blaine knows and he accepts that. Can you?” Kurt sounds brave, and he’s glad he’s so composed but the truth is, he’s afraid of her response.  
  
He realizes it as he spoons out the coffee grinds and can’t stop his hand from shaking. He almost wishes he hadn’t told Blaine to give them some time alone; he could use his support right about now.  
  
But this is his secret to tell, a secret he has kept from a woman who has been a good friend, something like a sister to him.  
  
Shockingly Regina grabs the wrist of the hand holding the spoon and lowers it, staring intently at him as she says, “No. No Kurt I can’t.”  
  
Kurt feels as if he has been stabbed.  
  
“I can’t accept it, and I don’t understand how you can accept it for yourself,” She goes on to say, “Mom told us that it was you Blaine left Jeremiah for, that he must have made up the prostitute thing out of spite, but it didn’t make sense. She didn’t believe it and neither did I. I sat there and I just could not understand the how or why of it. And then I looked at my baby, my Kyle, and I thought ‘he’ll be a man someday’ and it just _killed_ me to think that he could choose this for himself. You’re my friend, you’re my brother’s lover, and you’re somebodies baby Kurt; and you have no idea what you’re worth to any of us or you wouldn’t be able to do this to yourself!”  
  
Is there any way to brace for losing a friend? If you have ever had someone you’ve cared for, someone you’ve loved and laughed with turn away from you then you understand why Kurt can’t speak. Why his eyes get wet, and he concentrates solely on keeping everything together because the effort it would take to try and hold on to Regina is just enough to break him. What defense does he have against her words? None, he is in the wrong, he’s the whore, he’s the one who has lied for years and she has every right to be angry, to be disgusted and to give up.  
  
“Regina...I’m sorry. I..I shouldn’t have lied.”  
  
“Don’t be sorry for things that are done, things you can’t change,” Regina replies crisply. “I’m not Blaine. I’m not so in love with you that I’m going to treat you with kid gloves. I like you Kurt Hummel but I’m going to give you some tough love. I won’t tell my parents because it would break their hearts, and unlike Blaine they’d feel obligated to tell your parents and it for sure would break _their_ hearts. But I do expect you and Blaine for dinner next Sunday night. And when you’re not throwing yourself away, mom and I expect you at A &A Brides.”  
  
Kurt is stuck on the thought of his parent’s finding out, he’s stuck on what Regina said about Kyle, imagining his father’s face if he ever admitted to what he really does for a living, and everything just aches inside. He’s so caught up in the pain of it that he almost misses the last part.  
  
“Wait...what?”  
  
“Don’t what me shorty. You heard me. You don’t seem to think very highly of yourself so I’m sure you expected me to throw you away. Sorry sweetie, no deal. Dinner. Sunday. And mom and I need your help on a high profile wedding we’ve got coming up.” Regina grabs he coat and then turns back to him and says with a poke to his chest, “You happen to be a damn talented wedding planner, and it may not be your ideal career choice, but your career choices so far are shit. So you _will_ spend your off time assisting us, and you will at least _consider_ the possibility that you could do more with your life.”  
  
Kurt has no idea what is happening, or how to wrap his head around the fact that Regina apparently has not rejected him, that she’s inviting him to dinner because he’s her brothers boyfriend and she wants his help planning a wedding.  
  
“Blaine! I know you’re hovering around the corner, come in here,” She snaps as she puts one her coat and sure enough Blaine pokes his head in the doorway. “I could kill you letting this boy do what he does without telling anyone. Honestly Blaine, he could get hurt!”  
  
Regina’s words are harsh, but here’s the thing. She slaps the slightly taller man on the shoulder, and then just as quickly kisses him on the cheek, letting him know that despite her anger she understands. The situation is messy, it’s tricky, and no one really knows the right way to navigate. Regina as always, simply decides to blow her opposition out of the water and there’s nothing graceful about it. Regina Anderson-Bradey is a full partner in her own business, she’s the daughter of Mitchell Anderson, and she deals with life briskly and head on.  
  
She is one of America’s most successful wedding planners not because she’s an Anderson and someone handed it to her, but because she does not take no for an answer. She handles each and every crisis smoothly and attacks the source of her troubles with all the mercy and cunning of a pirate.  
  
You _will_ have those flowers here by seven, you _will_ put four types of icing and six types of roses on that cake, and Kurt Hummel _is_ going to wake up and smell them! Because he’s her friend, the little brother she chose- and by choose I mean Blaine dragged him home like a lost puppy and she decided that yes, they can in fact keep him.  
  
And they will simply because she won’t accept any other outcome.


	14. Under Pressure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which that thing that all escorts fear happens. Kurt's professional life clashes with his personal one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some dub con in this chapter. We also meet Dave, and while I would remind you to mark the warnings for this fic I'd like to expressly state that Dave's actions in it don't at all reflect my opinions of the character in canon.

  
He has got that awesome feeling in his stomach, the sort you get before the second date when you remember how amazing the first one was, not that Kurt would really know since he hasn’t really dated like normal people. He doesn’t know if it’s because of what he does, but it means a great deal to him for people to see them as a genuine couple, to see how happy they are together and see that he deserves to be with someone as amazing as Blaine Anderson.  
  
Working in Dobbs Ferry has opened his eyes to a lot of things, one of which is that the Anderson’s have a _name_ and it carries weight here. If he had a nickel for every time some little old lady has asked him if he’s ‘a friend of the Anderson boy’ he’d have a _lot_ of nickels. Even though he doesn’t know most of the people in the Anderson’s circle and none of them know that he’s a hooker, he still can’t help feeling inferior, like he doesn’t belong amongst them. And he desperately wants to, not because he cares what they think, but because he wants Blaine to be proud of him. And he will be!  
  
“Because I’m one of the planners, and because lord knows something’s bound to go wrong before three when the crews start arriving. Delivery trucks get lost, her fiancé- what’s his name- gets cold feet. And who deals with all this madness? We do.” Kurt answers tartly as Blaine appears in the doorway, already fully dressed and munching on an apple.  
  
“Well if it makes you feel better, there isn’t much chance that the groom is going to get cold feet. My dad keeps saying Sunshine is his step up, if you know what I mean,” Blaine comments between bites.  
  
“You think he’s marrying her for her money?” Kurt asks with a frown, he has met with Sunshine a couple of times and liked the girl. “Isn’t he some big NFL guy or something? You’d know better than I, Regina and Elaine did most of the personal back and forth between the couple. I just assisted.”  
  
“Really? To hear Regina talk you practically planned the whole thing yourself,” Blaine informs him pointedly. Kurt can’t help the way he grins at that. “And if you intend on seeing all your wonderful efforts bear fruit you should probably get dressed. I love you naked but I have a feeling my parents and their friends aren’t going to appreciate it as much. I’ve promised we’ll both be on our best behavior.”  
  
“As in try not to do anything that reminds anyone that being boyfriends doesn’t mean we just sit around playing Parcheesi?” Kurt asks with an arched eyebrow, abandoning a pair of Valintino trousers. Blaine just shrugs in response. “I’ll ignore how stupid that is for the time being. I’m having a crisis. I have nothing to wear!”  
  
“Kurt you look great no matter what you wear. You could show up wrapped up in our bed sheets and convince people it was some new thing. And if you did go dressed in just your tight little panties we could just say you were an engagement present that I have to take back because you know, I got the wrong size and all.” Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist from behind, kissing his neck softly. “God you smell so good.”  
  
Kurt smiles and curses the time a little bit, but he kind of likes this too, knowing that Blaine wants him but they’re forced to wait.  
  
“Hey now, I need to get dressed remember” he reminds them both as he reluctantly pulls away. “You were just whining that I was taking too long.”  
  
“I don’t whine, I chide” Blaine points out cheekily before pulling out an outfit at random. “There you go, wear this. I love you in red.”  
  
“I am not wearing bondage gear to work Blaine,” Kurt grumbles, and he has to pause for a second because _that’s_ certainly a twist on the usual. Kurt eventually pulls on the clothes he’d originally planned for the evening, telling himself to stop freaking out over nothing. He brushes imaginary lint off his pants and looks to Blaine for approval. “So am I fit to impress the rich and powerful?”  
  
Blaine looks Kurt over, and Kurt tries not to fuss too much with his shirt lapels. He still feels like the outfit isn’t right, which is saying something because his entire ensemble comes straight from Emporio Armani’s fall collection, and it’s ridiculous that Kurt should be this nervous for a dinner when he has gone to hundreds like it before working for cheerios.  
  
“Definitely,”Blaine decides appreciatively and the warmth in his eyes warms Kurt.  
  
“You know it’s a shame that we’ve got to be on our best behavior tonight; else I might have decided to do something disgraceful like blow you in the bathroom. What would mommy think then?” Kurt whispers in his ear as they leave his apartment, immediately locking hands.  
  
“I honestly think _that_ would be worth getting disowned for,” Blaine decides with an impish gleam in his eye. “But it would ruin all of the hard work you’ve done, and I want everyone to be there and be impressed so I can say ‘Kurt Hummel is my boyfriend and everyone should just die of envy’.”  
  
Kurt laughs because Blaine’s facial expressions call for it, because Blaine wants him to laugh, and because there’s nothing else to do when you feel as good as he does.  
  
As predicted when Kurt and Blaine arrive at the riverfront banquet hall things are chaotic. Elaine barely finishes saying hello before she pulls Kurt away to handle some crisis with the flowers they’ve ordered (they’ve come without the white satin ribbons and instead are adorned with some horrible lacy confections) and Blaine isn’t surprised that Regina finds him and orders him to make himself useful helping the catering guys unload their vans.  
  
And none of it matters because things never go according to plan, and the Anderson women and Kurt have come prepared. They make a good (if terrifying) team, and all last minute changes and adaptions are handled smoothly (and quite mercilessly). By the time eight o'clock comes around the engagement party is in full swing and, so far, is a total success. Sunshine is a total darling; she looks wonderful and she hasn’t stopped thanking the three of them. Kurt doesn’t think he has ever felt this proud over something he has done, or happier to be who and where he is.  
  
Being out with Blaine as a couple like this is so liberating, almost as if it hasn’t been real until now. They spend most of the evening glued to each other’s side as they network (when Kurt isn’t dashing away to discreetly handle some new problem). He’s a little terrified of running into a client at first because it’s a very real possibility with this crowd, but as he shakes hands with senators and diplomats he sees no faces he recognizes. Elderly women touch his cheek, men nod at him in recognition, and more than once he hears someone call them ‘darling boys’. While it’s a bit ironic to think of what these same people would think should he and Blaine be something other than charming and utterly sexless center pieces, he can’t help the flush of pride he feels because he helped make this night happen, he’s with the love of his life and all the important people in his life think they’re darling.  
  
So of course it all has to go to ruin.  
  
It’s not until Sunshine’s father calls the happy couple up to make a speech that he catches his first good look at her fiancé David Karofsky, a former client of his; A client whom he’d thought as well as hoped that he would never see again. He’s never come to A&A when Kurt was assisting and Kurt has only ever known him as Dave while he was a client of cheerios. Full names are not important in his line of business, but now that he has got a good look at him Kurt would know his face anywhere.  
  
Blaine senses his unease immediately. He looks at Kurt’s face rapidly draining of color in confusion before pulling him towards the door, but it’s too late. Kurt’s eyes lock with Dave’s and as recognition crosses Dave’s face he stares hard at the smaller man. He keeps Kurt’s gaze for what feels like forever before turning back to his fiancé with an obviously fake smile plastered across his face.  
  
Blaine tugs on his arm and he and Kurt weave through the crowd until they find one of the banquet hall’s many bathrooms, sneaking inside and locking the door behind them. Kurt thinks miserably to himself that he would have preferred to be sneaking into the bathroom for sex, not hiding from Dave Karofsky.  
  
“What is it, Kurt what’s wrong?” Blaine asks in concern as Kurt sits shakily on the closed toilet seat. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”  
  
“I think I have,” Kurt groans, rubbing his eyes. Why is this happening right now when everything had been so perfect? “The groom, he’s an ex-client of mine. Things didn’t exactly end well between us.” In fact that’s an understatement.  
  
Oh god. Why had he ever thought that any of this was a good idea? Now, Dave will say something and he will embarrass the Anderson’s and all of those people out there will know the truth and they’ll stare and they’ll judge and...  
  
It doesn’t matter, Kurt tells himself. He doesn’t care what they think anyway.  
  
“What do you mean ‘things didn’t end well’?’” Blaine asks in confusion before his face becomes darker and his voice harsher. “Did he hurt you?!”  
  
“No! It’s nothing like that.” Kurt’s very quick to reassure him as Blaine looks absolutely incensed over the prospect. It’s quite worrying considering this night is already on the brink of disaster but at the same time the fact that the mere prospect of someone hurting him can invoke such a reaction from Blaine makes Kurt feel loved. He loves Blaine a lot, and he hates himself a lot right now to match it because Blaine and his family are going to get hurt and it’s all because of him.  
  
His words calms Blaine a little, and his lover crouches down in front of him, taking his hand in his. “So what is it then?”  
  
Kurt sighs in frustration before he explains; he had honestly thought that he had seen the last of Dave. “I saw him seven or eight times, once a week over two months. I think it was just over a year ago.”  
  
“Just before he met Sunshine then,” Blaine ponders.  
  
“Things started fine, you know just the usual with my clients. Then he started to get weird. He got...intense about things. Asking me accusingly about who else I’d been seeing, calling me a slut one minute then telling me he loved me the next. I realized that he was starting to believe we were a real couple which was just _insane_ all things considering. I think he sort of loved me in his own way but I don’t think he was out of the closet in whatever life he lived outside my bedroom. He seemed to hate what he felt for me too. I don’t know, Blaine, it was all just really unbalanced. He started getting rough during the sex, ordering me to cancel with other clients and getting pissed when I wouldn’t. The last time we were together he threatened to kill me. At that point I decided that enough was enough and told Sue that I wouldn’t see him anymore and if she had any sense then she wouldn’t let any of the other boys see him either.”  
  
“Unbalanced? Kurt he sounds completely psycho” Blaine retorts. “I hate thinking about you working with people like that. I mean the whole Jason thing was bad enough, but you’re telling me you were with this guy for two months?”  
  
“He’s an exception rather than the rule,” Kurt promises, standing up to wrap his arms around Blaine’s neck so he can kiss him reassuringly. “I know how to take care of myself Blaine.” He seems to accept that, kissing Kurt back for a moment.  
  
“Jesus’ what are we going to tell Sunshine. She’s going to be crushed.” Blaine sighs and Kurt’s belly actually cramps.  
  
“We can’t tell her anything,” Kurt tells him seriously as he looks him in the eye. “At least not the part about him seeing an escort.”  
  
“Kurt are you nuts? You said it yourself, the guy threatened to kill you!” Blaine insists like he needs reminding. “Don’t you think his potential to become obsessive and violent is something his fiancé should know about?”  
  
Kurt doesn’t know what makes him feel sicker, the words coming out of his mouth or the way Blaine is looking at him like he has never seen him before.  
  
“It doesn’t matter Blaine, he was still a client and there’s a code of confidentiality, I shouldn’t even have told you, not really.” Kurt tries to explain as best he can but it doesn’t seem to be working, Blaine continues to stare at him aghast like Kurt is growing another head.  
  
“Confidentiality?” he repeats incredulously. “Kurt, it’s not like you’re a priest and you’ll be excommunicated or something!”  
  
“Don’t trivialize what I do! It’s not that hard to understand Blaine. Our clients trust that when they come to us it’s completely confidential. It’s the only way the business works.”  
  
“Fine. I understand that.” Blaine says and It couldn’t be clearer that he doesn’t at all. “What I don’t understand is why that matters more to you than protecting someone innocent!” Kurt can feel how tense he is, how his body is leaning away from his, and Kurt wants to yell at him for not getting it or push him away- but they can’t do that to each other. Not anymore.  
  
“I am.” Kurt closes the slight distance Blaine has subconsciously put between them. “You and your family, they’re innocent too. These are your neighbors, your families’ friends and business associates. What do you think will happen if the truth gets out and we cause some huge scandal right in front of everyone? I hope... I know they’ll support us, but they’ll suffer for it, and you can’t tell me that won’t hurt you.”  
  
Blaine doesn’t respond right away and it feels like years to Kurt.  
  
“All right,” he relents eventually. “You’re right. Shit would hit the fan, and a lot of people would get hurt instead of just the one. So we just let Sunshine marry this guy? How am I supposed to feel about this, Kurt?”  
  
“Exactly the way you do,” Kurt answers, kissing his lips, thankful that at least now Blaine understands where he is coming from. “This is....this is such a mess. And I’m sorry I got you in it. I really am Blaine. I’m not saying we shouldn’t warn her off him, just let’s try and avoid disaster if we can.”  
  
“Do you wanna go home?” Blaine asks quietly, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down Kurt’s back. “I could tell Mom that you’re not feeling too good. I know this is your big night but I don’t really like you being near this guy.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan,” Kurt answers, relieved that he won’t have to deal with a run-in with Dave. He’d never have asked, but he’s glad that Blaine himself suggested it. “You go on down, I need to pee and put my face back on. I’m sure I look frightening.”  
  
“You look fine, but I know you and your exacting standards. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby.” Blaine gives Kurt a brief kiss on the cheek before unlocking the bathroom door and heading back to the dining hall. Kurt does his business and is just washing his hands when he hears Blaine re-enter, locking the door behind him.  
  
“You didn’t have to wait for me. I can find the lobby all by myself,” Kurt calls as he finishes up. He yelps in shock as he goes to grab a towel only to be confronted by Dave and not Blaine.  
  
“Porcelain,” Dave says, passing Kurt a towel casually. “Never thought I’d see you again after you got me _blacklisted_ from the agency.”  
  
“Don’t call me that!” Kurt hisses in somewhat of a panic, as if everyone outside the bathroom can hear him. “And you did a fine job of that on your own by acting like a basket case! You threatened to kill me, Dave if I fucked anyone else and it’s my _job_. You don’t deserve a nice wife like that woman next door.”  
  
“Are you giving me a lesson in morality?!” Dave laughs bitterly. “That’s a good one coming from a whore. I never _did_ get my revenge for being shunned by every hooker without the clap in New York. Why don’t we go and find out what our guests think of Anderson’s lovely new boyfriend? Still think those snobs out there will think you’re so great, Fancy?”  
  
Kurt winces at the old nickname, something Dave used to call him like it was some endearing pet name between them.  
  
“You wouldn’t!” Kurt challenges him, hoping against hope that he’s right; not so much for himself, but for Blaine. As much as Kurt wants to fit in here, it wouldn’t make any difference to him if he never saw these people again, but this is Blaine’s world.  
  
“Why not?” Dave smirks triumphantly, taking slow measured steps towards Kurt. “I was just trying to use the bathroom….this guy who I’ve never seen before suddenly appears offering to let me fuck him in exchange for money….who do you think they’re going to believe?”  
  
“You’re unbelievable!” Kurt whispers through gritted teeth. “You’d ruin your engagement party because you were shunned by an escort over a year ago?! Strike unbelievable; you’re pathetic! Why can’t you just accept that you’re not my type and deal with it like a big boy instead of throwing tantrums?!”  
  
“You really think you’re something don’t you?” Dave’s face is thunderous now. “Well you know what you can do to stop it,” he says, gesturing down as he unzips his fly and pulls out his semi erect cock.  
  
Kurt looks at him in incredulity, wondering just what exactly it is that Dave can’t seem to let go, why he’s so fixated on Kurt if he hates him so much.  
  
“You’ve got to be kidding! If you think I’m going to get on my knees and blow you in the middle of your engagement party then you’re even more demented than I thought.”  
  
“So I guess I’ll be having a chat with my party guests then?” the taller man sneers. “I’m sure your little boyfriend would just _love_ you for that!”  
  
Kurt stares at him through narrowed eyes. He hates this, he really does, but the moment he’d seen that David Karofsky and _Dave_ were one and the same, somewhere inside he’d known that it would end this way.  
  
As much as he detests Dave he refuses to let him get Blaine and his family involved, and that poor girl in the other room doesn’t deserve to be humiliated in front of all her family and friends on a night that should have been so special, even if it _would_ show Dave for the callous bastard that he really is.  
  
Kurt feels really numb inside all of a sudden.  
  
It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s as meaningless as everything else he does with his clients, only maybe not, because this time it will mean that Blaine and his family don’t get hurt. That means something.  
  
But Kurt will get hurt. He thinks that if sinks to his knees in front of Dave it will hurt like nothing else in his life ever has.  
  
But in the face of what could happen....as he pictures Sunshine in her pretty dress, and Regina and Elaine smiling proudly at everything they’ve accomplished...all of it dissolving...all of these eyes staring at him filled with horror and pain and disappointment. Yeah. This might hurt. But that means nothing.  
  
 _They only sink so long as they’re trying to hold onto you._ He gets what Brian was trying to tell him that day. It’s about letting go, so that the people you love don’t drown trying to save you.  
  
Dave scoffs in satisfaction as Kurt finally sinks to his knees, pulling him fully from his boxers.  
  
“That’s it. You always did have a talented mouth. This might be the last _real_ blowjob I ever get so I want all your best tricks, just like when I was paying for it.”  
  
Kurt remembers that although the circumstances were different, he _has_ done this before. He tries to convince himself that this is no different, that he’s at home, in his working room and that Dave’s paying for it.  
  
It isn’t working.  
  
“Bareback,” Dave instructs as he goes to grab the emergency condom from his back pocket. Years of always carrying condoms around is a hard habit to break even though he and Blaine never use them.  
  
Thinking of Blaine suddenly makes everything that much sharper, that much more intense. No! No he will not give Dave something he has only ever given to Blaine. He just can’t. Kurt gives him a withering glare and says nothing as he unwraps the condom roughly with his teeth. Dave must see something in his face because he doesn’t protest further.  
  
As Kurt pushes the condom over Dave’s cock he thinks about how he’d been right. Everything about this hurts. He can’t stop picturing Blaine walking in and seeing them anymore than he can stop picturing Blaine’s face if Dave walked out and told everybody who he really is. And it hurts, and he hates Dave, and even stronger he hates himself.  
  
Because...Why? Just why? Why can’t he ever keep anything good for himself? Everything had been so perfect, the night had been so wonderful and _he_ Kurt Hummel helped arrange it all and he’d been happy! He and Blaine are happy together, silly stupid disgustingly happy together, and this, this will be the start to unraveling it all.  
  
He knows that even as he grips Dave in his hands. It’s the end because he won’t be able to forget, it will eat at him, and the holes it will leave not even Blaine can fill. And what the hell for?  
  
Why does he always give up? Why does he always sacrifice pieces of himself?  
  
What Kurt does next, shocks even him. He has always been the one to give up, give in, like he and his desires don’t matter but this time he just can’t. This time is different.  
  
Kurt gives Dave’s rigid flesh a few token licks, ensuring he’s relaxed and distracted before taking the head between his teeth and biting down hard. _That_ , is what he has to say to Dave and his threats.  
  
He scrambles back as Dave howls in pain and collapses to the floor, tears streaming out of his eyes and his face screwed up in agony.  
  
“Next time you’ll lose it,” Kurt warns him in a clear, steady voice. He wipes his mouth because he can still taste Dave and he hates it. “Keep away from me and keep away from my boyfriend!”  
  
“You fucking little bitch!” Dave groans in pain, almost bent double as Kurt unceremoniously steps over his prone form, before leaning over him so that Dave is sure to hear him over his groans of pain.  
  
“Do it, tell anyone who will listen that I’m a whore and that I propositioned you. Good luck explaining those teeth marks though,” he practically spits, before straightening his clothes and heading for the door. Kurt closes it behind himself and walks calmly away with his head held high.  
  
To look at Kurt you wouldn’t think he’s positively quaking inside. Holy mother of god, what has he just done? Dave is huge, he could have killed him. Dave might not care how it looks and decide to run out and tell everybody out of spite, Dave could....  
  
And then he walks out into the lobby and there’s Blaine leaning up against the door and it’s like the storm inside just fades away. It doesn’t matter to him anymore what Dave does, because he will still have this, and more importantly he still has himself.  
  
“What took you so long?” Blaine asks as he passes Kurt his jacket.  
  
“Oh nothing,” he answers flippantly as he pulls on his coat. “Dave cornered me in the bathroom and I nearly bit his penis off. No big deal.”  
  
Blaine tenses in shock, and then eyes Kurt with suspicion. “Are you being literal or metaphorical right now, because _seriously_ Kurt.”  
  
“I think it’s best you don’t know,” Kurt winks, kissing his cheek before yelping indignantly as Blaine pulls him out of the front door.  
  
“Jeremiah!” Blaine hisses as he rushes them down the steps. Well, Blaine rushes, Kurt is more like hauled. “What on earth is he doing here? This is seriously the night from hell right now.”  
  
“Blaine! Blaine I’ve seen you!” The older man calls angrily, appearing behind them in the front door. Kurt can’t believe he has the nerve to crash someone’s engagement party like this. “Don’t walk away from me, I’m talking to you!” Every time Kurt has heard Jeremiah use that tone in the past Blaine has gone rushing to make amends. He wonders for a moment what he’ll do now.  
  
“Run, Kurt. Run for your life” Blaine whispers in his ear and Kurt laughs as he’s dragged down the street at breakneck speed.  
  
“Oh that’s very mature!” Jeremiah shouts, jogging after them for a few paces before giving up. “Go ahead and run away from me with your little whore!”  
  
And here’s the thing. This is Dobbs Ferry where everyone is eating fine meals alfresco and strolling the riverside, and they’ve just fled a room full of New York's finest leaving one of Kurt’s angry ex clients behind them. There is no telling what Dave will do or say when he recovers enough to leave that bathroom, and all of these fine people enjoying their riverside shopping and dining are the Anderson’s neighbors. But Blaine is grinning and racing along with him like none of it matters and Kurt has never felt more free or powerful in his life.  
  
He can’t help but turn round and smirk smugly at Jeremiah, calling at the top of his voice as they race away. “Seriously carrot top, who are you calling _little_?”  
  
“Oh my god, Kurt shut up. We’re going to die. My mother is going to kill me. My father is...we’re dead. We’re just dead.” Blaine’s feeble attempts at a reprimand aren’t helped by the fact that he’s hysterically laughing and they’re still running hand in hand away from the riverside.  
  
By the time they're away from the riverside night life and have reached the park they eventually slow to a halt, pausing for breath as they try and get their laughter under control.  
  
“I honestly thought he was going to chase us all the way home,” Kurt pants with a smile as they walk into the park.  
  
“What? Not in shape enough to run away from two psychos in one evening?” Blaine teases.  
  
“Hey,” Kurt says indignantly. “I’m not the one who thinks butter is one of the major food groups, and I’ll have you know I get plenty of exercise.”  
  
“Is that what they’re calling it these days, exercise?” Blaine actually waggles his eyebrows. “I might be okay with you putting me on an exercise plan in that case.”  
  
Kurt goes to nudge him playfully, only to find Blaine’s not very well balanced and sends him tumbling to the grass with a thud, not before Blaine manages to grab his elbow and take Kurt with him though. He pulls Kurt on top of him and Kurt’s not complaining even though he’s in freaking Emporio Armani. It’s a great place to be, on top of Blaine.  
  
“Ouch Kurt. You weigh a ton!” Blaine groans as Kurt wriggles on top of him, all the while still giggling. Kurt can’t remember the last time that he laughed so much without being drunk. He supposes maybe they are a bit drunk. On something, who knows what, but it feels amazing.  
  
“I’m out of shape and I weigh a ton. You’ve insulted me at least three times in the last minute alone. You’re the worst boyfriend in the world!” Kurt exclaims with a wide grin that calls him a liar.  
  
“Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen!” Blaine says in this ridiculous imitation of the fresh prince.  
  
“Whatever!” Kurt scoffs. “You don’t have a mean bone in your body; in fact you’re annoyingly perfect.”  
  
To emphasize his point Kurt leans down to claim his lips in a sweet kiss, purring in satisfaction as Blaine’s hands come to rest on first his back and then move down to his ass.  
  
“I love you,” Kurt murmurs against Blaine’s impossibly soft lips. He does, he always means it when he says it but tonight it just seems to mean that much more.  
  
“I want you so bad,” Blaine replies with this glint in his eyes that Kurt is never going to get enough of. “Let’s go home.”  
  
“But I’m so comfortable,” Kurt whines like a child nuzzling his neck because he likes making Blaine wait. It’s almost as fun as the actual sex.  
  
“So you’re saying you don’t want to go home and have sex with me?” Blaine cries in mock horror, running his palms over the grass. “Yes, hell _has_ frozen over!”  
  
“Shut up Blaine. Can’t you just have me here?!” Kurt jokes before turning more serious because it’s an idea. A really really amazing idea. “Really, have me here!”  
  
“No way!” Blaine laughs until he realizes Kurt’s not kidding. “Seriously?”  
  
“Why not?” Kurt whispers conspiratorially. “It’s dark, it’s late and there’s no one else around.”  
  
“You’re crazy,” Blaine hisses as if someone may hear them.  
  
“Come on you know you want to.”  
  
“No! Kurt anyone could walk through here. Do you have any idea what people would say? My parents would-”  
  
“-be just as angry as they surely already are. Blaine you’re a grown man. Let them be angry. Be with me like this because you want to.”  
  
“Kurt,” Blaine groans and Kurt grins because he knows he has almost won.  
  
“Please,” Kurt pleads nuzzling his neck again. Interesting. He has never had to beg for sex in his life. If anything he has all but had it forced on him a few times. Things with Blaine continue to prove to be a constant revelation.  
  
“Jesus once you get an idea in your head….” Blaine trails off, cradling his cheek lovingly. “Why is having sex in the middle of this park so important anyway?”  
  
“Because this is something I won’t do with clients,” Kurt admits to him softly.  
  
Blaine’s brow creases adorably in confusion. “What? Have sex in a park?”  
  
“No, Blaine don’t be obtuse! Sex in public. There’s too much risk that I’ll get arrested.”  
  
“Well you have a point!” Blaine laughs. “But if I get arrested it doesn’t matter?”  
  
“I don’t mean it like that; if I get arrested with a client then it gets really messy for the both of us, not to mention Sue. If _we_ get arrested then we’ll get a slap on the wrist – we’re nothing more than a couple whose passion and love got the better of them.”  
  
Kurt can almost see the cogs in Blaine’s brain working. Even though he’d never really thought about this before, it’s suddenly of almost monumental importance that they get to share this together, because despite knowing how they feel for each other, sometimes they both just need to emphasize that Blaine isn’t just another client.  
  
Blaine’s hand strays from Kurt’s cheek to the back of his head, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, his other hand squeezing Kurt’s ass gently before slipping down the back of his trousers.  
  
“Christ, Blaine. The things you do to me,” Kurt murmurs between kisses. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of having your hands on me. Kissing me…touching me…fucking me.”  
  
“God. Yes!” Blaine gasps as Kurt grinds against him, he loves feeling the way Blaine hardens beneath him. “Want you so badly Kurt!”  
  
“Then have me,” Kurt whispers, almost as a challenge. It means something to him, that he is whole, that he can deny some and give to others, that he can give this to Blaine and _only_ Blaine. Kurt looks around to double check that they’re truly alone, and then decides the best place and position.  
  
“Here,” he decides finally, pointing to a sturdy looking tree. Kurt reluctantly climbs off of Blaine and goes and braces himself with palms placed flat against the trunk of the tree.  
  
Blaine’s eyes are wide as he gets up and follows Kurt across the crisp grass, almost like he’s in a trance. When Blaine moves up behind him and grasps him around the waist Kurt closes his eyes and sighs happily.  
  
“I don’t have any lube,” Blaine murmurs against his shoulder, placing kisses on the nape of his neck. “Nothing to ease the way.”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” Kurt reassures him almost non audibly. “Just go slowly. I trust you and I really want this with you.”  
  
“I love you so much,” Blaine whispers almost reverently, reaching around to undo Kurt’s fly and tug down his dress pants and underwear to just above his knees, giving Kurt just enough room to widen his stance. Blaine’s fingers glide over the bare skin of Kurt’s ass, worshiping his flesh with his hands.  
  
“Open for me,” he instructs softly as his hands leave Kurt’s skin. Kurt nods in understanding, reaching behind himself to spread himself and give Blaine better access. He rests he braces himself against the tree trunk, gasping as he feels one saliva slicked finger pressing tentatively at his hole.  
  
“You are so, fucking perfect Kurt,” Blaine breathes in a hushed tone as he gently coaxes Kurt open further. Kurt hums in anticipation, pushing back greedily as Blaine adds a second finger. Blaine easily locates his prostate, rubbing teasingly and Kurt is reduced to a quivering wreck, thankful that Blaine is standing behind to keep him from falling. It’s so strange to like that, to like that Blaine is always behind him.  
  
His thoughts are disordered and he whines pitifully as Blaine removes his fingers and breaks contact with Kurt’s skin all together. Kurt goes to protest, but his words are lost as he hears Blaine spit, then groan. Kurt can’t help but turn his head, everything inside tightening further at the sight of Blaine hastily covering his cock in his own saliva. Blaine’s eyes look black in the darkness as he leans in to kiss Kurt lovingly, before gently urging his arms back around to grip the tree trunk once again.  
  
“Slowly,” Kurt instructs in a whisper as he feels the blunt head of Blaine’s cock at his entrance, not that he really needs to tell him, Kurt trusts him implicitly. He inhales sharply as Blaine pushes in slowly but surely; it hurts, there’s no denying it, but not so much that Kurt wants to stop. He never wants Blaine to stop. Blaine rests his forehead against Kurt’s shoulder once he’s fully inside of him, breathing heavily as he uses all his willpower to hold still.  
  
After a few moments Kurt pushes back insistently until Blaine takes the hint and starts to move, almost infuriatingly slowly but exquisite at the same time. After a few experimental thrusts Blaine takes up a slow, lazy pace. It’s driving Kurt crazy that he can’t see the look on Blaine’s face right now, but the terms of endearment and expletives that are spilling from his lips more than make up for it. He wants to hear Blaine like this forever, to always be the one who strips off that polite socialite veneer his parents have so carefully cultivated in him.  
  
“Wish I could see you,” Blaine says between thrusts, echoing Kurt’s thoughts.  
  
Kurt cries out as Blaine’s cock makes consistent contact with his prostate, the burn caused by the lack of lube only adding to the pleasure somehow.  
  
“Doesn’t matter...just please...move,.. harder.”  
  
That seems to spur Blaine. He picks up the pace and it’s good, so good that Kurt doesn’t mind the burn of each stroke, or the way the bark rubs his hands raw. As both their breathing and their moans increase, Blaine snakes a hand around to take hold of Kurt’s cock, pumping it steadily until he’s trembling almost uncontrollably.  
  
Yesyesyesyes, he thinks, or he thinks he thinks. His throat feels raw and he can taste bark in his mouth as he opens it on what might be a gasp or a shout as the force of Blaine’s thrusts pushes him forward and his cheek presses into the bark.  
  
Kurt is gripping the tree with all his might as he comes hard across the bark and on onto the grass bellow. His death grip on the trunk is all that’s left holding him up as he feels Blaine pound in and out of him until he finally comes, chanting Kurt’s name against his shoulder as he fills him.  
  
They remain like that for several moments. Kurt just leans against the tree eyes closed, catching his breath, enjoying the feel of Blaine still inside him and not daring to move in case he collapses to the ground.  
  
Eventually Blaine pulls out, and Kurt’s body seems to immediately lament the loss. Blaine’s brow furrows in concern when he sees Kurt wince slightly, unable to prevent the little hiss that slips out; it’s only now that they’re finished that he realizes how much his ass stings.  
  
“Are you alright?” Blaine asks a bit breathlessly as he guides Kurt gently to the grass. Kurt giggles slightly as he realizes how ridiculous they must look; still completely dressed apart from their trousers and underwear around their knees, lying on the grass with their limbs sprawled in all directions.  
  
Kurt nods reassuringly, turning to look at him so their noses are almost touching. “I’m perfect, just gonna be feeling you up there for a while – glad I’m not working tomorrow.”  
  
“Don’t talk about work _now_ ” Blaine screws his face up in protest.  
  
“I thought it didn’t bother you anymore?” Kurt whispers in the dark, slightly worried.  
  
“It bothers me. Just like the way you don’t eat right or how you obsess about the way you look without ever really believing how great you look bothers me. All of that bothers me.’”  
  
“Alright alright! Wow I didn’t know I bugged you so much,” Kurt comments indignantly, going stiff beside him.  
  
“Don’t get upset. You don’t bug me” Blaine promises. “Those are just….things I don’t like, but they are far from deal breakers. They might be part of you right now but it doesn’t mean I love you any less. Everybody has things like that. There must be some things about me that you could live without?”  
  
He chuckles as Kurt shakes his head tersely, pretending to sulk as Blaine goads him.  
  
“You’re such a bad liar Kurt!” He laughs. “I know you can’t stand the way I put ketchup on a Sunday Roast. What about the state in which I leave your bathroom in the morning?”  
  
“You’ve got me there,” Kurt relents. “Your apartment is a constant pigsty and no matter how well I’ve tried to train you, I still nearly kill myself slipping in the water you leave around my bathroom. It’s like having a big sloppy dog.”  
  
“Just more excuse for us to shower together really,” Blaine responds with a shrug, pulling Kurt flush against him as they share a kiss. He looks at Kurt with love as they pull apart, their foreheads touching. “Do you think we’ll ever get tired of this?”  
  
“Who knows?” Kurt answers honestly. “I can’t imagine ever being able to keep my hands off you, but we were like that before. We had nothing other than rampant sex for six months and then we broke up, so maybe just being happy with each other is a good thing. If we can stay together a whole month without jumping each other’s bones then it must be a sign that we’ve got something deeper this time, something more than just sex.”  
  
Blaine smiles dotingly back at Kurt, brushing that one stubborn lock of hair from his forehead. “I can’t believe those words just came out of your mouth. When did you get so wise?”  
  
Kurt shrugs nonchalantly. “Time I guess, or maybe I always was, just didn’t let it show very often.”  
  
“You’re probably right. Just do me a favor, please? Don’t change. I know you think I’m perfect sometimes, but I’m not. Really, Kurt. But you...looking at you right now. I think you’re perfect...just stay this way, don’t change.”  
  
Kurt snuggles up even closer to him, having no desire right then to move and head home. He can’t believe where they are right now, he’s still a little light headed, unable to fully wrap his mind around what they’ve done and the consequences but he doesn’t care.  
  
He feels free, everything feels right, and for the first time Kurt doesn’t feel like he’s sinking, and it’s partly because of Blaine, but mostly it’s because of himself. Kurt Hummel may not realize it but I’m sure you do. Tonight he fought for himself, and it has made more difference than he can yet realize. Just then all he can do is marvel at Blaine, and the love they share and how much it means to him.  
  
He thinks about Brian, another escort who knows what it’s like to be caught in quicksand. Brian had someone once, a good person who tried to hold him. Brian let go, and while it might have saved them from drowning with him Kurt realizes now that it actually didn’t, not really. Because somewhere out there is someone who loves Brian and lost him and more importantly Brian lost himself.  
  
And then he thinks about Sunshine, who is in love with someone she doesn’t really know. Someone who at the moment is dangerous.  
  
“What I said back there at the party, about keeping quiet about Dave,” Kurt says into the silence. “Forget what I said, we should tell her everything.”  
  
“No Kurt you were right, we can figure out some way to...”  
  
“No Blaine listen. We have to tell her” Kurt insists, squeezing his hand firmly in the dark. “I don’t care how we do it or if it means we have to tell her I’m a prostitute, even if she’s left broken hearted and hates the pair of us for the rest of her life she’s better off knowing. He could seriously hurt her, and I’m sitting here with you, and I just think that everyone deserves the chance to find something like this and she’s not going to get it from him.”  
  
“And if what you do gets out. What then?” Blaine asks quietly.  
  
Kurt shrugs, and it’s amazing how calm he feels despite the terror he previously felt over the same prospect. “Then we figure it out when we get there. Together.”  
  
It occurs to Kurt that with just a few words he could be held responsible for ruining an innocent woman’s life. As an escort he’s no doubt been a contributing factor in the breakdown of many relationships, but he takes solace in the fact that if it wasn’t him it would have been someone else; that those ships were already sinking. He just hasn’t exactly thrown the struggling pairs a life jacket.  
  
But this time he can; It’s ironic that as an escort who regularly sleeps with married men, and considering how he and Blaine got back together, it’s still only now that he really feels like a destroyer of relationships. This time he has a chance to help someone though, and it might mean facing some ugly things, and it might mean ultimately losing Blaine, but that’s the thing.  
  
He wants this with Blaine, for both of them, for himself, and to really have it he’s got to trust it. The very thing Brian hadn’t had the courage to do, and that Kurt himself has never had the courage to do in the past.  
  
“Promise me that nothing will ever come between us.” Kurt says suddenly. He needs the words from Blaine. Lovers cheat, and they break up, and they fight with both fists and words. He makes a living sleeping with men who have lovers. No wonder up until now he has never wanted to be a part of that. Relationships start off as this beautiful thing, but then things quickly turn ugly and messy until nothing is left but pain and anger and bitter, wounded people. When he looks around the world in which he lives his life, his head tells him that he’s right; love is a charade.  
  
People let society convince them that love is the Holy Grail, that you can never be complete without it when what we all should be doing is just finding another person with whom we can have great sex and pleasant company and who won’t break us when they leave.  
  
Then he looks at Blaine, and his heart tells him something different; it’s not possible that there isn’t something more.  
  
“You know I can’t promise that, Kurt” Blaine answers apologetically. “I want to. But I don’t think that’s what you really want to hear. You wouldn’t believe me even if I did.”  
  
Blaine is right. Kurt more or less realized it the moment the words escaped past his lips.  
  
“Then promise me that you’ll fight for us, no matter what we do and no matter how difficult it is, even if the whole world is against us, we do our part not to fall apart.”  
  
Blaine doesn’t comment on the fact that right then Kurt sounds ridiculously needy, needier than he has ever sounded or felt since he was a little boy back in Lima. In fact he doesn’t even acknowledge it, despite how alien it must be to him. Blaine never knew the little boy in Lima, just the man he became after innocence and naiveté were stripped away.  
  
“That I can promise. But only if you promise too.”  
  
Kurt nods in gratification, squeezing Blaine’s hand again. As he curls up against him in the grass beneath the starry sky the tension floats out of his body. You know that little boy from Lima? He used to dream of moments like these, complete with the hand holding and starry skies.  
  
You should know that this feels like nothing short of a miracle.  
  
And so continues the trials and tribulations of being in a relationship; the irrational fears, not knowing what your future will bring, the high dramas and the pressures of someone putting their faith in you, the anxiety that maybe love _doesn’t_ conquer all.  
  
But you know something? Now that Kurt has it, he wouldn’t have it any other way.


	15. The little cracks they escalated.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darker side of prostitution.

Kurt has no real idea how he’s going to tell Sunshine that her fiancé is a closeted homophobe with a jealous streak a mile wide, because it’s not exactly an easy conversation to start. You should know that Kurt actually does have every intention of starting it that he is prepared to face whatever consequences might arise, but fate intervenes. Kurt never gets the chance to start that conversation.  
  
When he and Blaine finally make it back to Kurt’s apartment the night of the engagement party they shut off their cell phones and Kurt unhooks the land line. Whatever anyone has to say to them they both agree can wait until morning. Morning comes and they make breakfast (well Kurt makes and Blaine helps) holding the world at bay for as long as possible. But this morning, the world simply refuses to be held back. Kurt is just finishing Blaine’s second heart healthy omelet when the buzzer sounds.  
  
It doesn’t truly shock either of them to hear that Elaine and Mitchell are waiting practically perched on the door step demanding entrance. They don’t yell or anything like that, the Anderson’s never have to yell to get their point across; Kurt looks to Blaine because family or not this is his home, and if Blaine isn’t ready to deal with his family then Kurt isn’t letting them in.  
  
Blaine shoots Kurt a reassuring smile and says “might as well handle this all now.”  
  
It means something to Kurt that Blaine is okay sitting in his kitchen in his pajama bottoms and his ratty T-shirt while his scary parents are barging in to manage their lives and he just sits there in his socks completely comfortable.  
  
“Well Blaine,” Kurt has barely finished opening the door before Elaine and Mitchell are sweeping inside and Elaine is getting right down to business. “I’m glad to see that you have time to see your father and me. I hope we aren’t interrupting anything too important: breakfast, a public orgy. A stripper cruise!”  
  
The words coming out of Elaine’s mouth practically drip her fury as she removes her gloves with swift aggravated movements. Mitchell keeps his coat on and it’s his gaze that pierces Kurt while Elaine has all of Blaine’s attention. Mitchell Anderson is simply staring at Kurt, his gaze unblinking and assessing. It makes Kurt feel closer to prey than he has ever felt.  
  
“Sweetheart, have you lost your mind?” Elaine asks her son, gesturing to the apartment around them or maybe just the situation in general. “What possessed you to cause a scene like the one last night? You and Kurt running through town like a pair of wild teenagers, and Jeremiah shouting for the whole world to hear about whores- I have never been so _embarrassed_ , so disappointed in you both.”  
  
Kurt’s heart sinks because he doubts there was a person at the party who hadn’t heard Jeremiah and the look Elaine gives him now is knowing. It’s somewhere between repulsed and downright heart broken. Kurt knows then that she doesn’t believe Jeremiah is saying things just to be cruel, that she knows exactly who and what he is. Meeting her eyes is painful but he does it.  
  
Blaine seeing the tension between them quickly opens his mouth and defends them in a tone that Kurt has never heard him use with his mother before.  
  
“Mother I'm not responsible for what Jeremiah does or doesn’t shout about. He can shout whatever he wants to, that doesn’t make it true. You shouldn’t...”  
  
“Do _not_ lie to us, Blaine.” Mitchell’s quiet voice slices through the room like a hot knife through butter and silence ascends. It’s moments like these that Kurt sees how the seemingly amiable man he has come to know can lead a giant cooperation like United Banks.  
  
“I’m not interested in being lied to and I don’t care how old you are. When I ask you a question I expect to hear nothing but the truth come out of your mouth. Is that clear son?” Mitchell asks, and Kurt can practically see the instinctive ‘yes sir’ dancing on the tip of Blaine’s tongue. Blaine nods jerkily instead, biting his lip and looking about as comfortable as a crab without its shell. Kurt reaches for his hand and Mitchell’s eyes follow the movement.  
  
“Are you or are you not dating a prostitute?” Mitchell asks and Kurt feels Blaine’s wince against his hand. Though the conversation has thus far been directed at Blaine, Mitchell is looking at Kurt again, his eyes unreadable but expectant. Expecting what? An explanation maybe, or maybe some defense?  
  
The thing is that Kurt really has none. All of his reasons, though they make sense to him, he knows Mitchell and Elaine cannot and will not accept. Their son is dating a prostitute. Never mind whether they like Kurt or not, this is not the sort of thing a parent wants for their child.  
  
So Kurt gets that, and he’s not mad at them, but that doesn’t mean he’s giving Blaine up. It’s their life to live and they’ll make whatever mess of it they choose. He honestly believes what they have is a good thing for both of them. It’s why Kurt speaks before Blaine can.  
  
“While it’s fun being talked around, I have to interrupt. I’m the prostitute in the equation so let me be the one to answer that question.” At this announcement Elaine gasps softly, as if hearing the words spoken aloud makes everything more painful. Kurt continues, “Yes I work as an escort. I have for years. I only told Blaine recently if that is any comfort to you. I apologize for keeping you in the dark and for putting Blaine in a position where he felt he had to as well.”  
  
Mitchell nods ever so slightly, his face remaining largely unreadable and next to him Elaine sways like she’s dizzy. Wordlessly Blaine pulls out a chair for her and she sinks into it. Her face is pale, and Kurt can’t look away from her hands. They’re clutched so tightly together they appear bloodless.  
  
“Oh _Kurt_ , darling why?” Elaine’s voice is low and fast, riding the crest of a sob. “Did you need money? Sweetheart we would have-”  
  
“Elaine.” Mitchell interrupts her before Kurt can. His whole body has gone stiff, smarting from her words. He knows she means well, but Kurt certainly didn’t turn to prostitution because he needed the money! He has a family and they aren’t as well off as the Anderson's for sure but Burt would never let his son get so bad off that he had to turn to prostitution for god’s sake.  
  
Kurt wraps his arms around his chest, bracing against the new wave of pain that thinking of his father brings. He can’t be mad at Elaine, not when he can picture all too well how his own parents would react to finding out.  
  
“I had reasons. Please don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t owe them to you.” Kurt says as gently as he possibly can when he just feels like kicking things. “You and Mitchell have been family to me while I’ve lived here. I won’t ever forget that. I understand that this might not be something you can accept, but Blaine is the one I'm in a relationship with and as long as he can then we don’t really have anything left to discuss.”  
  
Kurt doesn’t know what to make of it when Mitchell smiles wanly at him.  
  
“You really think it’s that easy, Kurt?”  
  
“Dad,” Blaine’s tone is warning as he stands beside Kurt again.  
  
“You have a future Blaine!” Mitchel responds forcefully. “We’ve been very understanding, letting you go to the college of your choice, accepting your decision not to take a position at United Banks. We’ve trusted that you would find your own way because you’re a smart boy, but _this_ will ruin everything you’re working for, never mind tarnish what your mother and I have worked so hard to build.”  
  
“Mitchell.” This time it’s Elaine who lays a warning hand on her husbands arm.  
  
“No Lainey I’m not done. They both need to hear this.” Mitchell looks back at Blaine as he continues, “I messed up a lot with you Blaine. I won’t pretend I didn’t, but I never wanted to lose you. That night you asked me if I was ever going to really accept who you were, that’s what I decided. I said I’m not going to lose my son just because he loves somebody I’d rather he didn’t. Your mother is better at this than I am, but I’ve tried since then to see you for who you are, and accept who you want to be even if it isn’t everything your mother and I have wanted for you.”  
  
“Dad I-”  
  
“Just listen! We love you Blaine, we like Kurt and we know you love him. But we’re your parents, and it’s a lot to ask us to accept your decision to place yourself in danger. Do you even see how much danger you’re in? Your heart, your future, and your body are all at risk! You’re a man now, so be man enough to accept that.” Mitchell's eye’s bore into Kurt again. “Kurt he’s our son. Can’t you understand that?”  
  
There are problems in the relationship that Kurt and Blaine share. Have you been counting? Kurt has. You see as dizzying and wonderful as being in love with Blaine has felt, and as much as Kurt treasures the new feeling, you need to understand that a lifetime of hurt doesn’t go away with a few weeks of love.  
  
There’s a cynic, a lost little boy deep inside Kurt’s head that has been keeping count of all the little cracks, all the little indicators of trouble to come. While Kurt’s heart has been making lists for all the reasons Blaine makes him happy, another list was being made.  
  
There is a dark side to Kurt’s profession; it’s the side he rarely thinks about, the side he is quick to ignore. Out of it comes people like Jason, and moments like in the bathroom with Dave. The truth is Kurt’s heart, his body, and most definitely his future have all been effected by it. The list has only gotten longer since he acted on his love for Blaine.  
  
Blaine’s heart, Blaine’s body, Blaine’s future...they’re all in jeopardy too. That free feeling Kurt had the night before is quickly disappearing. Kurt is slowly coming out of a dream, disappointed to find that rather than finding they can soar, they’re still thrashing around in quick sand.  
  
When his parents have left Blaine takes Kurt in his arms and assures him that they'll be fine. It's no the first time Kurt doesn't quite believe it, but it is the first time he listens to Blaine and knows he doesn't either.  
  
********************************  
  
Things for Kurt and Blaine go on as well as they can. It’s not exactly bad, but it’s nothing close to as good as it was either. Despite her disappointment and fear, Elaine insists that Kurt remain on the staff at A&A Brides, which means a lot to Kurt. That joy is dampened however by the Anderson’s continued insistence that he seek help, and that Blaine rethink being involved with him romantically. While Kurt can’t blame them for feeling the way they do, it unavoidably causes tension for everyone involved.  
  
Blaine doesn’t like fighting with his parents, and Kurt doesn’t like the fact that Blaine has to fight with them on his account. The Anderson’s don’t want to do anything too forceful to cause a breach between them and Blaine but at the same time they can’t just sit back and watch him headed for a train wreck can they? It’s a predicament that no one can solve. Everyone treads as lightly as possible but it’s a balancing act no one can sustain forever. As the tension builds, tempers fray and insecurities ride the backs of fears to eat away at self-restraint.  
  
Three weeks later Kurt and Blaine are still holding on, still trying to juggle work, a relationship, and their personal lives. Splitting time between A&A Brides and cheerios is hard enough without the stress of boyfriend troubles, but Kurt has that, not to mention family troubles. His dad and Carol want to make a visit, and quite frankly Kurt is terrified of having his father anywhere near the unraveling mess that is his life right now, but he so rarely sees them that he can’t say no without hurting someone.  
  
Kurt just seems to hurt everyone he’s close to these days. It doesn’t help either that he has felt like shit the last couple of days; he’s pretty sure he might be getting a flu bug. He’ll need to go to the doctor if his symptoms don’t let up soon, because there’s a very real chance he has picked up some STD. With everything that has been going on, not to mention a second job, he hasn’t been able to get tested as regularly as he has in the past.  
  
In light of that Kurt has insisted that he and Blaine start wearing condoms when they have sex, because really it’s the only smart thing to do and they should have been doing it all along. That conversation went well enough if you judge by the criteria nothing bad was said. None of the things either of them wanted to say got said either.  
  
Blaine had simply agreed, said he was tired, rolled over and fallen asleep. Nothing too horrible in that, the worst Kurt can say about it is it left him horny and was annoying. Just like all of the little spats they’ve been getting into are annoying.  
  
All of that though, he can handle because he still has Blaine. They’re still good for each other and today is October 3rd which means he and Blaine have been dating for exactly three months. Kurt has come to surprise Blaine in his office.  
  
“Care to take a few minutes off to share some pita and humus with your wonderful boyfriend on our three month anniversary?” Kurt asks, sitting on Blaine’s desk, waving a plate of pita slices and red pepper humus in front of Blaine’s face enticingly.  
  
“You remembered too?” Blaine asks with a face splitting grin from behind his desk.  
  
“It’s hard not to when the third is circled on every month in that calendar on your fridge. Really Blaine, hearts and rainbows? Channeling our inner teen girl are we?” Kurt teases, dipping a chunk of pita in humus and bringing it to Blaine’s lips. Blaine doesn’t object at all to being fed.  
  
“Yeah well you do that to me,” Blaine grumbles good naturedly. “But I really can’t stop now babe. If I don’t get this write up finished tonight then my head is on the chopping block. It’s really stressing me out.”  
  
Kurt likes the way Blaine’s tongue darts out to lick his lips after he’s done chewing something, like he absolutely has to have every last drop of taste.  
  
“I could get under the desk and suck you off; I wouldn’t be adverse to that right now.” Kurt suggests, smirking at the way Blaine swallows. “Would that help you feel less stressed?”  
  
“It would help, but in terms of getting the work done it would be counterproductive,” Blaine says with a sigh. Kurt thinks he looks sexy like this, tie coming loose, hair rumpled from digging his hands through it.  
  
“Come on you can leave it for five minutes; it looks like you need a break. I’ll even hand feed you as long as you let me be the one to lick the humus from your lips this time.”  
  
“I said no Kurt,” Blaine snaps and Kurt starts. He hadn’t been expecting such a strong reaction from Blaine. Blaine winces and smiles sheepishly in apology. “But how about I come over to your place when I’m done here? We can celebrate then.” He’s gentler now, trying to ease the return of tension between them.  
  
“Can’t, I’m working too,” Kurt tells him, his voice coming out clipped. “That’s why I came over now.”  
  
“Can’t you take the night off?” Blaine asks testily, his demeanor visibly changing. He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms so dramatically Kurt would laugh if he wasn’t getting so angry at him. The mood is rapidly sinking into what is becoming an all too familiar air of irritation.  
  
“No, I already have to take a lot of time off to work at A&A Brides and I have to make it up to Sue somehow. I’m technically on stand-by right now,” Kurt explains tightly.  
  
“Forget it!” Blaine huffs indignantly, turning back to his work. “Next time I won’t even bother asking.”  
  
Jesus! Kurt finds himself wondering not for the first time that week when on earth Blaine is just going to out with it and say what’s bothering him. If he were a woman Kurt would honestly think it was his time of the month the way he has been carrying on. It’s always over little things, and it always comes and leaves so suddenly that they’ve never really talked about it.  
  
“That’s wonderful. You’re on stand-by. You know, I thought you might have forgotten about work at least for one night,” Blaine mutters, and Kurt thinks maybe it’s time they did.  
  
“Wait a minute, you just nearly bit my head off when all I wanted was for you to stop for five minutes, but now you want me to take the entire _night_ off? It works both ways, Blaine.” The phrase ‘double standard’ is on the tip of Kurt’s tongue but he knows better than to actually drop it into the conversation, Blaine looks pretty pissed off as it is.  
  
“Please don’t compare your job to mine,” Blaine says in warning, shaking his head and Kurt goes still. If there was anything left of the good mood on his face it’s draining away.  
  
“What is with you?!” Kurt demands angrily.  
  
“What’s with _me_?” Blaine gaps, incredulous. “Gee I don’t know Kurt. Maybe I’m just upset okay, maybe I’m upset that my boyfriend would rather spend the night whoring himself than spend it with me, or that I can’t have a conversation with my parents anymore that doesn’t end in tears because I’m stupid enough to live with this shit like it’s normal.”  
  
And Kurt is not normal. He’s broken and odd and everyone thinks so including Blaine. It hurts, it fucking kills to hear but Kurt is through laying down and letting people run rough shod over him. No one ever again, not even Blaine.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry things aren’t perfect with your parents right now but that doesn’t excuse you being an asshole. I’m sick of you, and your parents for that matter, using my job against me!” Screw your parent’s Blaine, this is about us. You, Blaine, you are pissing me off. You can’t say you’re fine with what I do and then trivialize it and try to undermine me when you can’t get your way!”  
  
“Oh so now I’m just being spoiled? I’m just selfish is that it?” Blaine snaps. “This coming from _you_?”  
  
“I never said anything about you being spoiled, but thanks for that. That makes me feel _really_ loved!”  
  
Kurt waits, fuming and breathing heavily, for Blaine to apologize, but it never comes. This, this explosion of bad tempers and hurtful words is a product of containing everything they’ve been too afraid to say. The thing about things like that though is no matter how long you hold them back they eventually come out, and usually they come out rotten.  
  
“It’s not like it’s a real job.”  
  
Kurt stares at Blaine in disbelief. It hurts hearing those words, but it’s a relief too. It’s a relief to finally have them out there, to not feel so terrible for being unable to trust that Blaine _really_ means everything he says about accepting him and loving him no matter what.  
  
“Well Blaine, I really am going to screw Tom Lake tonight at 6:30 and it looks as if you _really_ don’t like it!”  
  
“Kurt who the hell would like this!”  
  
“You don’t have to like it!” Kurt screams back. “I never asked you to like it. I would have fucking quit for you when we started this so don’t you dare get upset with me now! You said it was my choice, you said you wanted me to want to quit and I don’t! I don’t, and I won’t! How can you ever expect me to believe that I can... that I can just stop, and start over...that people are going to accept and respect me when my own _boyfriend_ can’t manage it?!”  
  
The words rip out of Kurt’s throat before he can even process them fully but they explode out like gun fire regardless. Blaine looks as if he has been shot, and Kurt can’t see his own face but he can imagine that he looks just as stricken. Blaine looks up at him with misery etched all over his face.  
  
“Kurt.” He’s guilty, he’s sorry, he’s anguished, Kurt can see it all over his face as Blaine’s hand goes to rest on his thigh but he jumps off the desk before Blaine can make contact with him.  
  
“Don’t touch me. I’m going,” Kurt informs him as he marches towards Blaine’s office door. “Before I do something stupid like let you charm me into forgiving you.”  
  
Kurt can hear Blaine calling after him, telling him that he’s sorry, but Kurt can’t talk to him any longer. His head hurts, his cheeks are flushed and his stomach has started to cramp. He starts to cry a little, because he can’t handle thinking about being sick on top of everything else. Thankfully Blaine doesn’t try to follow. Kurt might have just ended it if he had. He dashes the tears out of his eyes and focuses on breathing. Get home. Go to work. Go to bed. Fix things with Blaine in the morning or not if that’s what he decides to do. He can do that. He just needs to breathe.  
  
******************************  
  
As Blaine fumbles for the light switch, he tries not to cringe at the sound of his ringing cell phone. He knows that there is only one person who would call him at four in the morning; Kurt. Never mind that Kurt hasn’t answered a single one of his phone calls all evening, knowing Kurt he has been stewing all day, and now that he’s ready to talk he’ll talk damn whatever time it is.  
  
Blaine’s assumptions are proved correct when he sees his boyfriend’s name flashing insistently on the display screen and for a moment he considers putting it on silent. Just for a moment but then he sighs in resignation. As much as he wants to be mad at Kurt for avoiding him and deciding he can just call at 4am to say whatever new piece he has, Blaine can’t get that betrayed look Kurt had on his face as he’d left his office out of his head.  
  
He’d been so angry, is so angry, that Kurt can’t get it, doesn’t appear to understand at all what he’s doing to himself and to them every day that he continues to bury his head in the sand. He has a right to be angry right? No one would blame him from walking away from this dysfunctional way of living they’ve got going… except Kurt. Thinking of that look on his face- the betrayal, the hopelessness- and remembering what Kurt had said about not believing he could start over again, Blaine’s anger dissolves.  
  
Kurt’s right. He’d not walked into this blind. He’d made him a lot of promises and so far he’d failed at just about every one of them.  
  
“Hey,” Blaine fights a yawn as he answers the phone. He’s greeted with silence. “Kurt?”  
  
Still no answer but this time heavy breathing, hitched gasps mingled with the occasional sob.  
  
“Kurt?!” Blaine asks more urgently, already out of bed and searching frantically for some clothes.  
  
 _“Blaine?”_ Kurt’s voice is little more than a choked sob and he sounds completely lost.  
  
“I’m here baby, I’m on my way” Blaine tells him almost desperately, hoping that the feeling of panic and dread bubbling up inside him isn’t conveyed in his voice. He should have known immediately that something wasn’t right when Kurt phoned in the middle of the night, instead he’d simply thought the worst of him, just like the first time around; that way when Kurt lets him down he will be ready for it.  
  
But it’s different this time; Kurt has changed, and he has matured. And now something is very wrong and he’s not there for him. He’d promised he’d be there and he has done nothing but break that promise over and over again. It’s never that he _means_ to. He doesn’t try to be this hopeless at loving Kurt. He’d quit except he can’t stop being hopelessly in love with him either.  
  
Blaine doesn’t bother waiting for the elevator as he rushes out of his apartment, preferring to run down the stairs and into the parking lot. He rarely uses his car to drive in the city but there is no way he’s wasting precious time on public transport. By the time he reaches Kurt’s apartment his heart is beating out of his chest, both from the physical exertion and the adrenaline. As he unlocks the front door the pungent smell of sex mingled with liquor hits him immediately and he gasps as he turns on the light to see the state of Kurt’s living room and working bedroom are covered in empty bottles and used condoms, not to mention rolled up dollar bills with a suspicious sprinkling of white powder.  
  
This...this is why he’s so angry all the time. Kurt’s beautifully decorated apartment with all of its polish and charm is in shambles and can Kurt even understand how much it hurts Blaine to see it? Will Kurt ever understand that as much as that hurts, that it’s a million times worse to think of Kurt- who is a million times more beautiful and charming than any fucking room could be- getting destroyed like this? He’s so fucking... _everything_ , and he just opens himself up to get wrecked over and over again. It just kills Blaine to watch it.  
  
But Kurt doesn’t need his anger, he’d promised him his love and so far he has been shit at delivering that. Kurt needs him right now so he has got to man up already and deliver. Blaine tries to put all other thoughts out of his mind as he searches the trashed apartment for Kurt. His panic increases when he realizes that Kurt isn’t in the bedroom, that wherever he has gone he has left behind his bed sheets covered in puke and crumpled on the bed. That sort of uncleanliness is so far out of Kurt’s character that Blaine’s heart starts thumping painfully.  
  
Blaine’s momentary relief when he sees the light from Kurt’s bathroom is overshadowed by Kurt’s prone form lying on the cold tiles, his fingers clinging desperately to the toilet seat.  
  
“Kurt?” Kurt’s breath is coming in shallow pants and he’s barely conscious, moaning in pain every few seconds. He’s so tense that when Blaine touches his shoulder his entire body jumps erratically. “Baby it’s me,” Blaine whispers in what he hopes is a comforting voice. Stay calm. He has to stay calm.  
  
“Have you taken something?” He hates asking, hates thinking of Kurt overdosing on drugs but he has to considering the evidence in the other room.  
  
Kurt tries to shake his head but only ends up dry heaving, which must cause him more pain because his face screws up and he cries out in agony. “Hurts” he whimpers, bringing a shaking hand down to his abdomen.  
  
Despite the amount of physical pain he’s in Blaine can’t help but feel relieved when he realizes it isn’t anything drug related, but it’s momentary relief because that just means it’s something else. He remembers Kurt telling him he thought he might be coming down with the flu or something but this...this is not any flu that Blaine has ever seen. Kurt jerks spasmodically again, and Blaine’s eyes are drawn to the dark patch spreading across his pajama pants. He realizes with horror that Kurt has wet himself.  
He truly is sick with something and Blaine has never been more terrified in his life.  
  
“’m sorry!” Kurt gasps, his face screwing up in shame, attempting to cover his face with his arm to hide.  
  
“Shhh it’s okay,” Blaine soothes as he pulls the soiled garment from Kurt’s shaking legs. He darts quickly into the bedroom and grabs a pair of clean boxers. Once he has gotten Kurt dressed again he rushes back into the bedroom and pulls a clean sheet from the ottoman, running back into the bathroom to wrap Kurt in it before sliding his hands beneath Kurt’s shoulders and knees to ease him from the floor.  
  
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine apologizes as his movements unwittingly cause Kurt to cry out again in pain; Blaine’s a little shocked at how light the taller man is and how easy he finds it to get Kurt down the apartment stairs and into the backseat of the car. He wants not to move him, wants to call 911 but he knows that police and paramedics will have questions that will mean trouble for Kurt and cheerios. Blaine couldn’t give a damn about cheerios but Kurt will and Kurt means everything.  
  
“We need to get you to the hospital.” Blaine is mostly talking just to hear something other than the racing of his own heart.  
  
It’s a wonder Blaine doesn’t get pulled over, because he breaks the speed limit about one hundred times just in the fifteen minute drive to the hospital, but he couldn’t really give a shit at the moment. He doesn’t even bat an eyelid when Kurt throws up onto the expensive leather upholstery; all he cares about right now is getting him help.  
  
The car skids as Blaine pulls to a grinding halt outside of the hospital. He calls for help even as he eases Kurt into his arms. He gasps at the sheer temperature of his skin as he places a kiss against Kurt’s sweaty brow.  
  
And then Kurt’s gone, taken from his arms and rushed into the E.R, leaving Blaine feeling lost, his arms immediately missing Kurt’s weight. Blaine Anderson stumbles backwards into an empty seat and tries to breathe.  
  
He doesn’t mean to burst into tears, it just happens. He tries to control it, to make it all stop, but he can’t. He's got no control over himself, over what's happening, no control over anything.


	16. Fear in itself will pull you down.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the title says.

The thing you need to understand about the following is that life is hard, and the choices we make directly influence the quality and caliber of it, but only so far. Life is not interested in what is fair. Good people lose as often as nasty ones do, the innocent get crushed as often as the guilty, and death spares no one. Maybe life is actually as fair as it gets and fairness is not what we’re actually looking for at all. Maybe what we need is not what’s fair, but what is good. Love is far from fair either, but it is as good as it gets. Love has a way of balancing out the good and the bad of life. It can lighten the blow of life's greatest tragedies and can make even the smallest little pleasures feel like nirvana.  
  
Is it any wonder humans rely so heavily on love?  
  
Blaine Anderson is one man, a small blip on life’s radar, who is faced with the impossible task of saving the life of the man he loves. What man can possibly be responsible for saving another? Should he fail, the first thing his loved ones will tell him is that he is not responsible for Kurt, that Kurt’s life and the making or breaking of it is solely Kurt’s responsibility. And this is true.  
  
It is also a lie. Not in reason, or in practicality, but in heart. Love will always make it feel like a lie. Love says you are mine, I am yours, and we are one. Blaine Anderson is as responsible for Kurt Hummel’s wellbeing as he is for his own. That is the gift and the curse of love.  
  
The following is best simply put: two men’s struggle to follow the path that love hath blazed.  
  
Blaine sits in the waiting room of the hospital for what feels like hours. He has no real idea of how long he has been there, since he hardly remembers stumbling in after they took Kurt from him in the first place. As he waits he worries, his mind wandering through all of the possible reasons behind Kurt’s condition. Has he overdosed on pain medication? Been raped by a client? Contracted some deadly virus? Is it Hepatitis, HIV, AIDS? Aliments flash through his mind like grinning ghouls. All are equally possible, if some more likely than others, and all are equally terrifying.  
  
Blaine has always disliked the danger of Kurt’s job. He sees it far better than Kurt does but having seen none of it firsthand before now it is only now sinking in just how reckless Kurt is being with his life. How irresponsible he himself has been going along with it all. If something happens to Kurt now...  
  
Blaine could lose him, not just for a few years while they dick around avoiding the fact that they love each other, but forever. Some sick bastard could rape and kill him, or Kurt could have HIV and... Blaine sprints to the nearest restroom and empties the contents of his stomach down the nearest toilet bowl. That is simply unacceptable to him in every sense of the word.  
  
It’s a little bit funny in a twisted sort of way that it isn’t until now, when he’s faced with the very real prospect of losing Kurt, that Blaine realizes just how much this man means to him. He has known that he loves Kurt for years. It’s not just that he’s in love with him. He’s finally understanding that all too terrifying reality of how far a person can crawl under your skin, how deeply connected you can get with another person before you can’t separate where you end and they begin, and the gravity of that. It’s an endless circle. Blaine gives, Kurt takes, and Kurt gives and Blaine takes, and they grow like they are odd extensions of each other.  
  
If it weren’t that way, loss wouldn’t hurt so damn much. It wouldn’t feel like someone came along and hacked your arm off without so much as a by your leave. Kurt is well and truly part of him, to lose him would be to lose a part of himself (perhaps one of his best). This man is vital to him and the last thing Blaine said to him before he rang up in agony was said in spite. If that’s the last thing Kurt has of him he’ll just cut his tongue out or something else really dramatic like that because it shouldn’t ever be that way between them.  
  
Right now Blaine doesn’t give a fuck about his job; Kurt could be an escort, a hit man, or a drug dealer for all that it matters to the man dry heaving over a toilet in the men’s restroom. He’ll fucking deal with it, they’ll get through it, just as long as Kurt comes back to him alive and whole.  
  
Breathe Anderson. Breathe.  
  
Blaine shakes his head to dispel his morbid thoughts and tries to remember that Kurt could actually have a bad case of the flu, or something else not so traumatic as an STD and if he’d been raped or something else awful… well they’d deal with that too. The important thing was he wasn’t dead, and the chances of him being in the dying stage are actually pretty small considering how often Kurt goes in for medical checks in comparison to other people. So Blaine just needs to be calm.  
  
He pushes himself up and walks to the sink to wash his face and rinse his mouth. As he wanders aimlessly out of the bathroom and into the corridor he practically walks right into another person.  
  
“Blaine?” Blaine recognizes the accent and the man it belongs to. He didn’t think he’d ever run into Alex again and he feels awkward doing it now. He doesn’t know much about the other man beyond what Kurt has told him of how they met and the fact that he was sort of Kurt’s boyfriend for a while. Blaine had sort of ruined that hadn’t he.  
  
“Alex. Hi...what are you doing here?” Blaine doesn’t know what the etiquette is for running into the guy whose boyfriend you sort of swooped at a hospital at nearly 5am no less.  
  
“I’m here for my nephew Max,” Alex explains, gesturing to the plush toy Blaine hadn’t even noticed was tucked beneath his arm. “He has sickle cell disease, and gets some pretty bad episodes. He’s young so his folks like someone to be here and I come sometimes to give them some relief.” Blaine nods as Alex goes on, his frantic mind glad to have something to focus on other than panic.  
  
“What brings you here, Anderson? I don’t usually run into many friends here at this hour.” Maybe it’s the way Alex’s voice is so soothing, maybe it’s the way the other man extends friendship so easily despite the complexity of their circumstances, but Blaine tells him everything. He needs to talk to someone who isn’t in the thick of things, who isn’t his parent’s or his sister or as in love with Kurt as he is. Plus Alex already know, he knows because Kurt trusts him and now Blaine trusts him to be honest and tell him exactly what he’s supposed to do when he feels like everything around him is crumbling to ash.  
  
Alex leans against a nearby vending machine patiently listening, only interrupting once to purchase a candy bar. He hands it to Blaine when the shorter man runs out of words.  
  
“Chocolate, it helps the nerves,” he explains when Blaine looks at him questioningly.  
  
“Thank you,” Blaine says as he takes the offering. “I just...don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I want to support him, I know he needs that, but I can’t keep watching him hurt himself. You’ve been his friend this whole time. How do you do it? How does it not just kill you sometimes?”  
  
“Well, considering how I met him I suppose it’s easier for me. I haven’t known him as anything else.” Blaine can’t help glaring at the reminder and Alex’s cheeks flush pink. He is a nice enough guy but Blaine has to hate Kurt’s clients on principle. He hates anyone who has used Kurt in that way.  
  
“That a regular habit of yours? Meeting guys like Kurt?” Blaine asks, taking a bite of his candy bar and trying to keep his tone even.  
  
“Not really any of your business, Anderson, but a fair enough question all things considered,” Alex replies with a slight shrug. “Kurt was the first, minus a stripper or two back at the occasional bachelors night, but those never went beyond a lap dance or a blow job behind the bar.”  
  
“Can I ask why? I mean Kurt tells me you’re successful, you’re not exactly hard on the eyes. There has to be a ton of guys out there willing to date you. Why cheerios?”  
  
“I’m defective maybe?” Alex answers with a shrug, Blaine’s eyes widen in disbelief. “I’m serious, I’m the most anal retentive person I know, and I live in a fucking dream world half the time. I’m too idealistic, everyone says so. My partner, Aaron, he used to call me St. Alex just to rib me. I just... I know how I am, so I have a hard time believing that there isn’t something inside everyone that wants to be good, even if they make a complete mess of things.”  
  
Blaine smiles slightly, thinking that he and Alex might have a something in common. Kurt was always telling him he needed to stop trusting people so much.  
  
“How did all of that lead up to Kurt?” Blaine asks.  
  
“I learned the hard way that the world isn’t black and white and that I’m just as gray as everyone else is. Aaron was a lot like Kurt. When I met him he was running with a street gang. I always knew he’d seen and done some awful things, but I was still pretty naive. I just expected that I could sweep in like some white knight and that love and care would fix everything.”  
  
“It didn’t?” Blaine asks and his heart aches with an unasked question. _It won’t_?  
  
“Oh he loved me for it. I was the first person to give a shit about him in years; of course he was madly in love with me. He tried to be worth something in St. Alex’s eyes and there you go, nobody can be a saint. Especially not a broken kid like Aaron was. He’d struggled with heroin addiction since before he even met me but he never said a word. Didn’t want to disappoint me I expect… so instead he did a whole lot of hurting and then he decided I was better off without him and he committed suicide.”  
  
Silence stretches between them; Alex’s pain is stark, real as a physical thing between them and there isn’t any tripe thing Blaine or anyone else can say to make it better. He can’t imagine losing Kurt that way, and the terrifying thing is he can see how it could happen, how easy it would be for them both to make Alex and his Aaron's mistakes.  
  
“Do you… do you regret it?” He has to ask. “Do you ever wonder about what would be different if you’d never met? If it would be easier?”  
  
“Every day,” Alex admits. “And I’ve found that the same thing is true. I’m still not better without him.”  
  
“Me neither and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”  
  
“Don’t think there is much you can. Just love him, pray if you’re the praying kind.” Alex says the words Blaine expects and yet dreads to hear.  
  
“No offense, but that doesn’t seem to have worked out too well for you” he points out.  
  
“Yeah well, no one said it was a guarantee.”  
Well that’s great. Before Blaine can respond to that a tired looking doctor approaches them.  
  
“Excuse me, are you the one who brought Kurt Hummel in?” The man asks and when Blaine nods he says, “he’s asking for you.”  
  
Blaine nods quickly and the doctor gestures for him to follow and begins walking down the corridor.  
“Is he alright, do you know what’s wrong?” Blaine asks as they walk but his questions are forgotten as soon as he sees Kurt lying on the bed, already in a hospital gown with an oxygen mask over his face.  
  
“The mask is just a precaution,” the blond doctor explains as Blaine turns to him in panic. “And it should help him a bit with the pain.”  
  
The doctor turns back to Kurt, and touches his forehead lightly as if testing the temperature wafting off him. “Kurt? This is Phil again. I need to examine you again, is it that okay?”  
  
Blaine doesn’t know what he feels when Kurt nods his ascent and opens his eyes for the first time since he had found him, relief doesn’t cover it.  
  
The doctor, Phil rather ironically, pulls on a pair of latex gloves before lifting Kurt’s hospital gown, quickly pulling up the sheet to preserve his modesty even though it’s something Blaine has seen many times before.  
  
Kurt whimpers as Phil runs his hands over his skin, and Blaine instinctively moves to grab his hand smiling reassuringly as Kurt’s eyes meet his with recognition. When Phil presses down on a particular spot, Kurt’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he all but screams in agony. So loudly that everyone in the waiting room must have heard him. Blaine shoots the doctor a murderous glare on instinct but leaves him to his work.  
  
“Shhhh it’s okay baby, look at me.” He attempts to sound certain. “Just keep looking at me.” Blaine implores as the pain threatens to overwhelm Kurt. There are unshed tears in his eyes as he grips Blaine’s hand painfully tight, biting his lip as Phil continues to probe him all the while apologizing softly as he continues to cause Kurt more pain. Then Kurt turns a sickly shade of green, and Blaine has to react fast and grab a basin from the medical cart to stop Kurt from vomiting down yet another garment. Kurt all but rips the oxygen mask from his face just in time as the painful sounding heaves start all over again.  
  
Blaine focuses on breathing steadily, stroking Kurt’s hair tenderly as he throws up. He clings to Alex’s advice now, because the man might be as lost as he is but it’s something at least. He’ll love Kurt until it leaks out of him if it’s all he can do for him.  
  
“I was going to give him something for the pain,” Phil explains as he continues his examination. “But they’re tablets and if he’s vomiting then we’re going to have to administer in suppository form.”  
  
The pain seems to lessen slightly as Phil rolls Kurt onto his side. When Phil encourages him to lift his leg so he can administer the suppository Kurt shakes his head furiously, attempting to clamp his legs shut with a surprising amount of strength considering how sick he is.  
  
“Come on Kurt, it will make you feel better” Blaine promises, smile wobbling as Kurt tries to pull him closer. “And one day it will be a great story to tell. Everyone needs a ridiculous doctor story or two.”  
  
Thankfully Kurt seems to see the funny side and he laughs genuinely, only for his giggles to change immediately to groans of pain as the movement causes him more discomfort. Blaine immediately feels like an asshole.  
  
“Shit I’m sorry, that was stupid. I promise not to make you laugh until you’re better.” There is no doubt in Blaine’s voice as he says this to the man he loves, Kurt _has_ to get better; the fact that that isn’t a guarantee is beyond his comprehension. The doctor doesn’t comment; he lowers Kurt’s gown and guides him onto his back once more.  
  
As Blaine continues whispering meaningless words of comfort to Kurt, Phil sticks his head around the cubicle to speak to a colleague; his voice is too quiet for Blaine to hear exactly what he’s saying, and he doesn’t want to leave Kurt and go closer, but there is one word that he does make out: surgery.  
  
“Please don’t cut him open!” Blaine blurts out suddenly when Phil returns to the cubicle with a nurse. Even to his own ears his outburst sounds pathetically childlike, but the thought of someone taking a blade to Kurt’s perfect skin makes him irrationally sick to the stomach.  
  
“We may have to,” Phil replies apologetically. “We need to do a CT scan to confirm it, but I’m pretty sure he has appendicitis.”  
  
A wave of relief passes through Blaine and he doesn’t have to look at Kurt to know it’s shared. He’s so relieved right now he feels like laughing and crying all at once. Appendicitis while serious is easily treatable with very low risks of complications. It’s not...it’s not all of the horrible things it could have been.  
  
At the same time Blaine can’t help but wince at the doctor’s probable diagnosis; no wonder Kurt is in such pain. He remembers when he was in junior high and Regina had appendicitis, she screamed the house down, and in comparison Kurt has been as quiet as a mouse.  
  
“Okay,” Blaine answers quietly, watching Kurt in confusion as he periodically lifts and rotates in hips in an almost obscene manner. “What’s he doing?”  
  
“That’s quite normal, just something patients might do unconsciously to relieve the pain and remove the pressure.” Phil smiles encouragingly. “First we need to get him on a drip to keep him hydrated; he’s thrown up and can’t have any food or drink if we’re planning on operating. Then we’ll give him some antibiotics via an I.V to kill the bacteria and stop the infection spreading, it will help his recovery post-surgery too.”  
  
Phil steps aside as a porter enters to take Kurt for his scan. Kurt clings onto Blaine’s hand until the last possible moment, when he’s wheeled off and he is forced to let go.  
  
“It will be fine. You’ll see. I love you” Blaine calls as Kurt is once again taken away from him, unsure if he can even hear him or not. Satisfied that Kurt is not in any immediate danger, Blaine sighs in exhaustion and collapses into another of those uncomfortable hospital chairs. No doubt like the countless others who have sat there he can do nothing but wait for news.  
  
***************************  
  
The first thing that Kurt becomes aware of is that this isn’t his bed, nor is it Blaine’s; it’s far too hard and uncomfortable. The second thing he feels is the unholy pain that’s centralized to the lower right of his stomach, so intense that it’s making him feel unquestionably sick. He realizes then that he’s in the hospital; that telltale smell of disinfectant mixed with disease is unmistakable. He cracks one eye open as he takes in his surroundings. He smiles in spite of the pain as he sees Blaine sitting next to his bedside, doing the crossword in a newspaper.  
  
Blaine is so deep in concentration that he jumps when Kurt tentatively touches his upper arm.  
  
“You’re awake,” Kurt resist the urge to roll his eyes at Blaine for stating the obvious, partly because he doesn’t have the strength but mostly because Blaine looks like he has been through hell. His hair is a mess and he has heavy bags under his eyes, plus from the redness of them Kurt can only guess he has been crying.  
  
“How are you feeling?”  
  
“Oh, I’ve felt better.” Kurt groans, gasping as the pain in his abdomen increases when his curious fingers come in contact with bandages. “What happened?”  
  
“You called me in the middle of the night, and then I found you almost passed out in the bathroom in a lot of pain, so I brought you here and they took out your appendix. You don’t remember?”  
  
“Vaguely” Kurt answers honestly. “It’s all a bit hazy. I don’t remember much at all… except for the pain and you holding my hand.”  
  
“You sounded like you were in agony,” Blaine murmurs sympathetically. “I felt so helpless.”  
  
“You were _amazing_ ” Kurt tells him seriously. “Even though I can’t remember most of it, you must have been. Because you’re….you.”  
  
“Kurt I’m not...I’m not some saint or something. I wasn’t so amazing yesterday evening,” Blaine reminds him in a quiet voice with a hint of self-loathing. “I was a complete asshole yesterday.”  
  
“Let’s not talk about that now.”  
  
“But I was. I felt awful as soon as you left my office but it wasn’t until I realized how sick you were that I understood the possible ramifications of me being so awful to you.”  
  
“I’m pumped up on anesthetic, don’t use big words,” Kurt chides petulantly, his head is still very fuzzy from the operation. “Do you really think this is the best time and place to have this conversation?”  
  
“Probably not, but it can’t wait. Last night has reminded me that life is short, and that you mean more to me than anything else in the world. I love you Kurt, and I could have lost you, and the fact that the last words I could have spoken to you were so condescending...yeah it makes me an asshole .”  
  
“Blaine-” Kurt begins, only to be cut off by him.  
  
“No, let me finish. I’m almost done I promise.” There’s a ghost of a smile on Blaine’s lips. “Remember when I did that foursome with you? I said your job isn’t who you are, it’s just what you do. It’s about time I start to practice what I preach.”  
  
“Meaning?” Kurt asks somewhat dubiously. It’s becoming pretty obvious that Blaine’s been prepping this speech and he won’t rest until he delivers it. Kurt finds it a little adorable, even if most of it is lost on him because Blaine can’t bring himself to use simple words and contractions like normal people even when Kurt’s head is floating on a cloud somewhere.  
  
“Meaning I need to stop being such a hypocrite. I need to stop thinking ‘oh poor me, it’s really hard dating a whore’ in one breath and ‘how come Kurt can’t see how special he is’ in the next. You asked me how you can believe that people won’t hold what you’ve done against you if I can’t and you’re right.”  
  
“You think I’m _right_?” Kurt asks in genuine disbelief.  
  
“You’re right a lot more times than either of us realize or are willing to let on. You know I’ve had to do a lot of waiting, and it gave me time to think. I made a mental list of the things that really matter in my life: you, my parents, Reggie and her family, and then David and Wes. That’s it; eight people, not things. Not your job or my job. So here it is. It isn’t sane, or smart, or responsible but it’s all I can give you. I love you Kurt whether you’re a wedding planner or a prostitute, whatever you choose to be. If this is what you want, then fine. I’ll be with you, and I’ll be proud of you and nobody is going to love you or delight in you as much as I will.”  
  
Kurt is having trouble breathing. Part of it is that he’s on the verge of tears because he can’t deal with the unfairness of it all. Blaine Anderson is beautiful, and fate should have given him some wonderful lovely boy to love who would make him happy and give him good things and all Kurt has managed to do so far is hurt him. The other part of it is he’s so full, full of love and longing. He wants to be that wonderful lovely boy that Blaine deserves, the one that Blaine sees when he looks at him. But how can he possibly be?  
  
Even if he quits, it won’t erase what he did. It will always be a dark secret that will threaten his future, there will always be Dave’s who he will run into in whatever new life he tries to make. Nothing he does, no amount of love, will change the fact that Kurt Hummel was a whore. Kurt is well aware of how the world works and how it will judge him: once a whore always a whore.  
  
But Blaine, Blaine is looking at him and promising to love and delight in whatever he chooses to be. How unfair, that Kurt has found the man he could spend forever with now that his forever looks so damn bleak. He wonders bitterly for a moment at where they would be now if they had met back in Lima, when Kurt had still been an angel. Before he fell from the sky, and the devil cut out his eyes.  
  
But so much for maybes and could-have-beens. Kurt is a survivor. He deals in what is. And what is, is that Kurt is a whore and if he had any sort of love for Blaine he’d let him go. This is the first time Kurt thinks about doing just that but Kurt can't, not today, because he is also very selfish. He won’t give Blaine up, no matter what fights they have, or how wrong it is to drag him to hell with him. It’s the one thing Kurt has decided to keep for himself. Heaven help them both.  
  
“Ah. Mr. Anderson I do believe you’re asking to be with me completely, now and forever….” Kurt leads, grasping for Blaine’s hand and squeezing it gently. There are unshed tears in Blaine’s expressive hazel eyes, and Kurt can feel the wetness in his own.  
  
“For as long as you’ll have me.” Blaine finishes, kissing his palm. He’s rather in love Kurt decides because he can’t even hate Blaine for that horribly cheesy gesture. Then Blaine pauses, staring at Kurt’s hand in his like he is seeing into another dimension, or maybe more accurately seeing forward. He can see the resolution in Blaine’s eyes, the desire, and he knows exactly what it means and what Blaine wants to ask.  
  
“Start over?” Blaine asks hopefully, an unspoken agreement to put all their previous cross words behind them.  
  
Kurt smiles in relief because Blaine seems to understand that now is not the time to ask what they both know is in his heart and on his mind. Kurt is not that selfish. He can’t say yes to the question burning behind his eyes so it’s better not asked. Kurt lays back as Blaine pulls the sheet up to his chest and encourages him to go back to sleep.  
  
“No. Let’s just keep going.”  
  
*****************************  
  
Its day two of Kurt’s hospitalization incarceration and he’s about ready to kill someone; the term ‘climbing the walls’ doesn’t even begin to cover how crazy being bed bound is driving Kurt. And God bless Blaine, as much as Kurt loves him and adores his company, his patience is wearing thin and Kurt just wants to shake him and tell him to get some sleep and a shower and go home so he doesn’t have to see his face.  
  
Still, it’s nice to feel loved and Blaine does a great job at taking his mind off the pain, which thankfully is gradually becoming more of a discomfort rather than outright pain. Kurt is wise enough to know that more than anything Blaine still feels a bit guilty about what went on before he took ill and wants to reassure himself that Kurt is still there in (almost) one piece, minus an appendix.  
  
“How are we today Kurt?” Phil asks as he sticks his head around the cubicle curtain. Not for the first time Kurt is tempted to clue him in on just what he thinks of the typically patronizing doctor’s ‘we’. He scowls as Phil begins prodding and probing his stomach.  
  
“Owww!” Kurt cries out as Phil peels back the dressing to prod at his healing wound. “Fuck! Yes...yes, that is a gaping hole in my stomach. Can we not try and see if our fists will fit through it?”  
  
Phil smiles at Kurt’s peevishness like the sadistic bastard Kurt knows he is, as Kurt looks up at Blaine. Blaine is staring down at the incision with morbid curiosity, his face paling slightly as he sees firsthand the lasting reminder of the other night.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m still here,” Kurt reminds him, encouraging Blaine to look at him. “It’s just a little tender, and Handsy McGee over here isn’t helping.”  
  
Their attentions are brought back to Phil as he coughs purposefully, looking down at his clipboard sternly.  
  
“Well Kurt, the good news is that the incision is healing nicely and there’s no reason why you won’t make a full recovery.” He then does that annoying inhaling of breath through his teeth that people do when they’re about to deliver less than favorable news. “In other areas, well you could be doing better.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Kurt’s confusion quickly turns to horror. “Have I caught something? The clap?! The syph?!”  
  
“No, no nothing like that!” Phil is very quick to reassure, he looks confused by Kurt’s assumptions. “But we did some blood tests and other checks and I must say I was shocked by what we found. You have deficiencies in almost everything and your BMI, that’s body mass index, is 18.2, so taking into consideration that a normal BMI is between 18.5 – 25, you’re clinically underweight. An ideal BMI is between 20-23 so you can see from that how far off you are. Day to day you’re basically running on caffeine.”  
  
“Oh...” Kurt sighs. His eating habits aren’t the best, he knows that, and being with Blaine has helped since Blaine’s stomach is still convinced he’s a growing teenage boy and constantly demands to be fed. But Kurt rarely eats much of what he makes and taking on the job at A&A Brides on top of everything else hasn’t exactly helped him keep up with having three meals a day. Coffee is Kurt’s best friend.  
  
“I’ve treated young men and women like you before and some of them have ended up with eating disorders.” Phil tells him seriously, and Blaine’s words from months ago come back to haunt him. “You really need to start looking after yourself better.”  
  
“You mean man can’t live on coffee alone?” Blaine asks with more than a hint of sarcasm, prompting Kurt to elbow him in the rib.  
  
“Shhh. Don’t be smug” Kurt tells Blaine wryly before turning his attention back to Phil. “So what do I do?”  
  
“Just think about what you’re doing to yourself. Eat three square meals a day – proper home cooked food that will give you the nutrients that you need. Remember that a cup of java might make you feel full but that’s just the sugar talking, it’s not a proper meal substitute and caffeine is a drug. Cut back on the amount of time you spend exercising and don’t be afraid to indulge every once in a while. I know you lead a hectic life but _no one_ should be so busy that they don’t make time to eat, and just be sensible.”  
  
“Thank you doctor,” Blaine thanks Phil graciously. “Kurt and I will take extra care with his diet from now on.” Blaine all but scowls at Kurt as he speaks. Kurt smiles back at him. He wants to ask Blaine if they’re going to be like those old couples always arguing about blood sugar and cholesterol from now on.  
  
“What I _should_ do is make a referral to a dietician,” Phil continues, causing Kurt to groan out loud. “But you’re an adult and I need consent for that, and I know you’re not going to go for it. So instead we’ll get you a food and exercise diary which you’ll need to keep, then if you don’t start gaining weight we can see exactly why.”  
  
“Wonderful,” Kurt sighs in resignation as he carefully lays back down, wishing once again for his own bed and his own space. “When can I go home?”  
  
“I want to keep you in another night, just because you’re very weak” Phil explains as he writes in his file. “But then all being well you can leave tomorrow morning after I’ve done my rounds.”  
  
“I don’t know if I can take another night in here,” Kurt sighs again at Phil’s words. “I suppose it’s too much to ask if I can change into something other than this hideous hospital gown? Can I at least have a shower? I feel like I’m growing stuff.”  
  
“Just be mindful of the incision,” Phil instructs with a warm smile. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two alone and give you some privacy, just take care Kurt.”  
  
As Phil exits Blaine leaves the hospital chair where he has recently set up camp and joins Kurt on the bed. Despite the lack of space Kurt appreciates his presence immediately, realizing that he has been craving this type of contact even though he’s only been bedridden two days.  
  
“You have an obscene amount of stuffed animals in this bed,” Blaine remarks, pushing several out of the way as he wraps his arms around Kurt.  
  
“Between your family and Alex I’ll probably drown in cards and plush toys. I’ve never really gotten the point of these things. They don’t look like real animals and their eyes are all beady.” Kurt picks up a plush puppy dog to emphasize his point and stares at it dubiously.  
  
“This guy? What are you talking about? He’s so cute.” Blaine takes the puppy from him and presses its plush snout to Kurt’s cheek and makes kissing noises. Kurt bats the toy away and kisses Blaine because he’d rather get kisses from him than some stupid toy any day.  
  
“You gonna help me take a shower?” Kurt looks up at Blaine, smiling suggestively. “Don’t think I can even manage the walk at the minute.”  
  
“Does that mean I have to keep my hands to myself?” Blaine pouts.  
  
“Afraid so love,” Kurt smiles apologetically as Blaine’s arm snakes around his back and pulls Kurt against him. “And before you try anything now, these gowns aren’t the ones that are open at the back.”  
  
“Shame.” Kurt gasps in discomfort as Blaine shifts them on the bed.  
  
“God I’m not going to be able to work for weeks, Sue is going to kill me.”  
  
“Don’t think about work Kurt,” Blaine implores seriously.  
  
Kurt sighs in annoyance when they get back around to the age old subject of his employment. Did Blaine mean _any_ of what he said yesterday, or is this the conversation they’re going to have for the rest of their lives? Their very own Groundhog Day.  
  
Blaine places a finger on Kurt’s lips as he goes to complain.  
  
“Hush Hummel, let me explain. Don’t think about work because you need to rest, not get yourself worked up about pissing people off. I’d be saying this to you if you were a milkman. I called Cheerios myself and they know what’s going on, you just need to sort out how much time you’re going to need off work. Phil will be able to give you an indication of that.”  
  
“You spoke to Sue?” Kurt asks in astonishment. “How was that?”  
  
“Interesting,” Blaine answers cryptically. “She’s arrogant, patronizing, abrupt, crazy as hell. I can see why you like her so much.”  
  
“Hey!” Kurt warns him, elbowing him once again.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Blaine chuckles. “Seriously though, I know that when you’re not working you’re not earning but it’s not like you’re desperate for cash. Take some time off to recover and get into a healthier regime; you’ll find it so much easier to get back into the swing of things.”  
  
“That is if my clients are okay with my new hideous scar,” Kurt grumbles, glaring at the bandages around his stomach.  
  
“Kurt, you’re beautiful,” Blaine assures him with such vehemence that Kurt can’t help but stop and drink in his words. “It’s like…you’re so gorgeous that it hurts. Like the sun, you’re so bright and vibrant and stunning that sometimes I’m scared to look directly at you.”  
  
“Oh, Blaine.” It’s all he can think to say.  
  
Blaine looks down at his lap, pensive as he continues. “When I found you lying in the bathroom I had no idea what was wrong, but when I saw the state of your apartment I thought that you’d either overdosed or you’d been raped or something else awful.”  
  
“I didn’t want you to see that,” Kurt explains softly. “The events of that night are still hazy, but I remember thinking that when I called you. I wanted to cry, and not just because of the pain. I realized what it would put you through seeing all of that. But I was safe, I promise Blaine. The clients just wanted the whole ‘frat boy’ experience.”  
  
The words are true, but they ring hollow for some reason. While his client had not exactly been as dangerous as Jason or Dave, the situation couldn't really be called safe when Kurt had a bunch of drunken drug addled college boys going wild in his apartment while his appendix quit on him.  
  
Blaine doesn’t say anything for several moments, until his head snaps up and he looks directly at Kurt, like he has just decided something in his head. “I want you to start phoning me when you’re working. Whatever you do for Sue I want the same.”  
  
“Blaine, honey are you sure?” Kurt ask skeptically. Despite having turned a corner over the whole work thing he can’t imagine Blaine being happy about Kurt phoning up immediately before and after another man fucks him. There’s only so much a boyfriend should be required to put up with.  
  
“Positive. I want to know what you’re doing, when they arrive and when they leave. When I found you the other night it terrified me that if, god forbid, a client had seriously hurt you then I wouldn’t know unless Sue or the hospital phoned me, or I turned up the next day just to see you….lying there.”  
  
It settles over Kurt then, just what he’s putting his boyfriend through. He really wishes he were strong enough to push him away again for his own good, but he can’t. He doesn’t know when he got so weak.  
  
“This isn’t going to be forever....Blaine I. I want you to know that I’m listening. I’m not blind or stupid, I see what this is doing...I just. I need time.” Kurt rambles, feeling his throat clog with tears. “Maybe one day I’ll wake up and think ‘you know what, I’ve had enough of this.’ It could be in two days or it could be in two years. I wish I could promise you more than that. I wish I could let you go find someone else… But if it helps, then I can do that, I’ll call you.”  
  
“Kurt I don’t want you to ‘let me go’. What for? We love each other and you deserve to be loved as much as I do,” Blaine replies intensely and Kurt hugs him close, breathing deeply of his scent as he slowly calms. They sit together in comfortable silence, each simply content to be with the other.  
  
“Does it still hurt?” Blaine asks finally as his fingers slip under Kurt’s gown and trace ever so gently over the dressing. Of course Kurt would be much happier with his fingers a good few inches south of there, but sadly neither of them are up for that right now, physically or otherwise.  
  
“It’s more of an ache now,” Kurt explains softly, his hand joining Blaine’s as their fingers lock. “But it hurts like a bitch if I touch it with any more pressure than you are right now, or if someone like Phil decides to pull the bandage back and poke at it. ‘Fucking sadist.”  
  
“Does it feel weird,” Blaine asks, “I mean part of your body is missing.”  
  
“Blaine would you quit worrying. Seriously it’s an appendix.” Kurt laughs. “I mean, it didn’t really have a function, did it? It’s like…..when you had a friend when you were tiny but haven’t heard from them in twenty years, then you find out that they’ve died or something. I know in pure biological terms my body’s now missing a chunk, but beyond the pain of being cut open and messed around with I swear I’m fine. How can I not be when I have you? You can relax, Mr. Anderson, you’re a fantastic boyfriend and I couldn’t be more thrilled with you. You don’t need to be superman all the time.”  
  
“I love you” Blaine murmurs against Kurt’s hair, his voice sounding suspiciously like it does just before he falls asleep.  
  
“I know.” Kurt smiles fondly, leaning into him. Blaine really needs a shower and his hair is a little greasy pressed against Kurt’s cheek but Kurt doesn’t mind enough to wake him and make him go home. As Blaine drifts off into exhausted sleep Kurt reaches for and picks up the plush puppy Regina had left for him.  
  
It stares up at him with adoring glassy eyes and big black floppy ears and he smiles.  
  
“Alright you’re cute.” He laughs at himself, snuggling in with Blaine. He can’t fall asleep though, not even with a plush puppy and Blaine curled into him.  
  
Kurt Hummel is too busy dealing with realizations. He’s not infallible. He is all too mortal in fact and this incident worked out okay, but one day it won’t. One day some doctor will have news for him that is not so easily cut away and removed. The lifestyle that he has become accustomed to is slowly killing him from all angles be they emotional or physical.  
  
He can see it now. He’s up to his neck in quick sand, no ifs ands or buts about it, but that’s the trouble of it all. He’s well and truly stuck now, and he doesn’t see any clear way out. He just needs time...time to think, to breathe, to figure out some way to keep Blaine and his father from getting hurt.  
  
Kurt can’t avoid thinking about that now, especially with his family coming soon. He should quit. He really doesn’t want to lie to his father, and yeah he has been doing it for years but it has always been at a distance. Something about imagining Burt walking through his apartment wondering at the one locked door Kurt won’t let him through makes him sicker than his appendix could even manage.  
  
But if he quits, he’s going to need to do something with his life, he’s not equipped to live like a housewife off of Blaine’s money. Kurt needs something for himself, and whatever it is he won’t want to hold back. He loves working with A&A but they are high profile and he has already run into one ex client…  
  
He’s afraid, so desperately afraid that this will always be a stain he can’t wash away. Many people would refuse to hire him if they knew, and many more would fire him or maybe even try and take advantage of him if they ever found out. What sort of a life can he have now?  
  
He really doesn’t mind the job so much. Maybe there’s a way to be safer? Not work so much, and lessen the chances of catching something one of these days? He can keep A&A Brides, he can pick up more hours there, be more in the background, find some sort of balance.  
  
Kurt snorts at his useless thoughts. Is there a way to be ‘mostly not’ a whore?  
  
No. He didn’t think so.


	17. The breaking point.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more with feeling.

There is a well-known and oftentimes overused phrase ‘a leopard never changes its spots.’ In terms of usage it must be up there with idioms such as ‘Bob’s your uncle’ and ‘a little bird told me’. Well, no offense to whatever wise guy came up with that little gem, but in Kurt’s case he couldn’t be more wrong.  
  
Change is no stranger to Kurt and he has come to accept it as it darts in and out of his life. It is as inevitable as death and taxes. Change is synonymous with simply living your life; your opinions change, the company you keep changes, the life plan you set out for yourself, and now thanks to modern medicine people can change their lifespan, their appearance and their gender. Kurt knows that change is everywhere.  
  
When he thinks back on himself ten years ago, that naive sixteen-year-old still coming to grips with his own sexuality, he realizes that compared to who he is now, that boy is almost unrecognizable. Kurt is convinced that he has changed more in the past ten years than any one person has a right to. But change is good, right? Change helps you grow, gives you new experiences and when your life isn’t going well it helps you put things right.  
  
But how can you tell if who you are now is just a natural progression as you develop from an adolescent to adult, of if you’re a completely different person to how you were before? What do you do when you realize that the person you are now is not the person you want to be, that you deviated paths and ended up in a place that isn’t right for you, but all roads in and out are equally rife with strife? Perhaps the only choice is to buck up and change again.  
  
“Shit! God dammit that fucking little....bitch!”  
  
Kurt cracks one eye open from his comfortable position on Blaine’s couch as the man in question returns from Walgreen's. He was discharged from the hospital the afternoon before and Blaine has insisted that he stay with him until he’s strong enough to take care of himself, and for once Kurt readily agrees with him. It has been quite nice to have Blaine fussing over him, although no doubt it will soon wear thin. If anything the look on Blaine’s face when Kurt agreed to move in with him temporarily was worth it; Blaine was speechless.  
  
“Judging by this uncharacteristic outbreak in cursing I’d say either that gawky girl at the cafe` has messed up our order again, or you’ve had another run in with Jeremiah,” Kurt guesses as Blaine dumps his shopping bags angrily on the kitchen counter.  
  
“Sadly on the second count you’re right,” Blaine sighs in resignation as he flops down on the couch next to Kurt, for once managing to resist the urge to play mama hen and pull the thin sheet tighter around Kurt. “When I went to check the post I found this in the mailbox, and by the look of things there’s one in every mailbox in the entire building.”  
  
He passes Kurt a piece of A4 florescent paper, on it written in bold black reads: Blaine Anderson, apartment 36 A – dumped his fiancé and shacked up with a whore!  
  
“Wow, I think I'm having flashbacks to high school. The man’s over thirty, is he serious?” Kurt groans, closing his eyes as he feels a headache coming on; he has already dealt with fighting with Blaine, surgery, and hospitalization. His family is coming up to spend a weekend with him and the Anderson’s-which is just honestly inviting disaster but it’s not like Kurt can stop any of it- and Jeremiah is the last thing he needs right now. “How did he even get in, I thought you took back your key?”  
  
“I did, but people will recognize him and will have let him in with them. We did live together for over a year.”  
  
“I’ve got to hand it to him, he’s original. Some scorned lover’s burn clothes, some try and mow you down in their car; Jeremiah gets back at us with a hard hitting smear campaign. You’d think he’d be a little more direct, you know, put one of my pictures on it from the website. The whole whore comment by itself just sounds like he’s raving.”  
  
Kurt crumples up the piece of paper and tosses it into the bin. He understands now how Blaine knows that there’s one in every letter box, the paper is bright yellow to attract maximum attention and sticks out in the room like a neon sign. Yellow, the color of cowardice; how appropriate. Jeremiah had hated Kurt pretty much from the moment they’d been introduced, but not once did Jeremiah ever say it to his face.  
  
“That’s where that belongs,” Kurt decides firmly. “So did you get me my coffee?”  
  
“I did indeed, and after that little conversation about your general health the other day I got you a decaffeinated drip and a whole wheat muffin, and you’re going to eat the muffin Mr. Hummel no complaints.”  
  
“Ooooh no sir. I’ll take your muffin but you march right back outside and get me my mocha!” Kurt exclaims, not bothering to hold any of the bitch back as Blaine passes him the bag with the muffin and attempts to pass him the cup of coffee; Kurt gets very cranky at the best of times when his coffee isn’t _exactly_ to his specification, let alone when he’s sleep deprived and has recently been sliced open. He and coffee have been so dependent on each other over the last few years that he has come to take it very seriously. Mess not with the coffee.  
  
“No, Kurt all that sugar and caffeine only lowers your immune system, and you’re just recovering from surgery. No, don’t pout at me; I’m not even looking at you so it won’t work. Just drink, you know I’m right. You taught me this junk,” Blaine reminds him sternly, leaving no room for argument.  
  
“I know, and it’s really annoying.” Kurt sighs as he takes a tentative sip from the coffee cup, he’ll never admit it but it doesn’t really taste that bad plain. Still he would rather have his mocha. He’ll never understand how Blaine can just guzzle his coffee black like it’s water.  
  
“How’s Mr. Crankypants feeling anyway?” Blaine asks as he drinks from his own cup.  
  
“Sore, nauseous, but most of all exhausted,” Kurt ticks off his ailments casually. The pain he can handle, it’s the tiredness that’s affecting him the most right now. He’s used to working nights and squeezing in sleep between that and A&A brides but something about being ill and getting cut open never fails to wear out the body. Kurt isn’t working and he has done nothing but lay about all day but at night the pain and the nausea is just enough to keep him awake, not to mention Blaine mumbles in his sleep– Kurt has actually been known to have a lucid conversation with him in the past.  
  
“Won’t you take some painkillers?” Blaine pleads with him softly. “If the discomfort lets up then you might be able to get some sleep.”  
  
“I’m fine; it’s not that bad anyway. I’m just happy to have been discharged, you’re more than capable of looking after me, plus you’re way hotter than any nurse at the hospital. You can give me a sponge bath any day.”  
  
“Thanks, I think” Blaine accepts the dubious compliment. “But anyway, I figured we should run over to your place so you can grab some more things. I want to head up to Huletts Landing as soon as the rush hour traffic dies down a bit. It’s a good five hour drive regardless. ”  
  
“I thought we weren’t headed up to the lake house until Sunday,” Kurt reminds him with a frown. “We’ll be four days early.”  
  
“Well….. your dad called while you were sleeping earlier, and he and Carol were worried to hear about your surgery. They’re headed up early, and rather than park at our door step I just figured we’d all meet up north a little earlier than planned. I think it would be good for you Kurt to take a whole week, get you away from the temptations of the city and work to be with family. Finn and Quinn are even bringing the baby. Have you even met your nephew?”  
  
“Blaine, you didn’t have to do this. I promised I wouldn’t go back to work until I’m ready; I can’t anyway, stitches are not a turn on.”  
  
“Yeah well this way you won’t even be tempted if Sue has some super rich guy and is short staffed,” Blaine reasons patiently. Kurt waits to feel angry at Blaine for talking to his parents about him without his permission, but it never comes. In fact the whole thing is rather sweet in a weird domestic way.  
  
Blaine talks to Kurt’s family because they are coming up for a weekend (that has now turned into a mini vacation) and they’re going to stay at the Anderson’s lake house because the Anderson’s are getting away to celebrate Regina’s birthday (her first as a mother), and if Blaine goes, then of course Kurt goes and if Kurt is coming then of course his family is welcome.  
  
When did his life become so Brady Bunch?  
  
“I don’t know Blaine, my parents will be flapping over me and the house will be full of your relatives…..the last time we were all together in one place like this was just after we graduated. Don’t you remember? It was nuts, and we drove each other crazy.”  
  
“It’s family Kurt.” Blaine shrugs like the thought of throwing their families together and the resulting chaos doesn’t faze him at all.  
  
“I’m well aware,” Kurt says, well aware also that his tone is less than kind. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the less time we spend with them the better?”  
  
“Because you’re worried someone will say something to clue your family in?” Blaine asks with a knowing frown. “Kurt, have you thought any about....”  
  
“What? Telling them? Of course, it’s all I think about. And no. The answer to that is no.”  
How can he? Telling Blaine was hard enough, having the Anderson’s find out one by one has been a nightmare, but as rough as all of that has been he knows that none of it will compare to telling his own family. Finn and Carol will be hard, and he imagines they’ll accept it about as well as the Anderson’s have.  
But his father?  
  
New York is a long way from Lima, but the distance is not what has kept Kurt away from home these past couple years. The truth is that once he started escorting there was only so much lying he could do (whether it be to others or himself). Standing in front of his father seems to make it impossibly hard for Kurt to feel anything other than shame or guilt, because he knows exactly what Burt would say and do and none of his reasoning will make a damn bit of difference.  
  
“Kurt don’t you think things are sort of unraveling of their own accord? First me, then Jeremiah and quickly thereafter went the neighborhood. Sunshine knows, and now Jeremiah’s putting fliers everywhere. With your family coming up here-”  
  
“Sunshine knows?! You told her?” Kurt blurts in shock- struggling to sit up only for Blaine to push him gently back down- a look of dissatisfaction on his face. It’s not like they hadn’t planned on doing that anyway, but in the chaos of everything it had gotten pushed to the wayside. Kurt doesn’t know how he feels about Blaine going on his own and doing it. He can’t help but feel like a child, someone Blaine is just managing along.  
  
“Yeah” Blaine admits softly, his fingers picking a bit of thread from the sheet covering Kurt’s legs. “On Monday actually, I met her for lunch. I told her that I knew something about Dave, but I couldn’t tell her how I knew. I left after I’d explained what I knew, just as she was on the phone to him asking who Porcelain was. She came and saw me on Tuesday. She and Dave had a fight, he told her about you. I felt pretty bad about that, but she said that I was right to tell her. She’s breaking off the engagement, and Kurt she isn’t going to tell anyone. I mean you’re not exactly her favorite person right now but I think she’d rather know than be in the dark.”  
  
“Shit.” Is all Kurt can say, before realization hits him. “Did you say Monday? As in Monday October 3rd? You went and had this conversation without me _before_ I was disabled?” Now Blaine’s mood swings that day made a little more sense, but Kurt can’t find it in himself to be understanding. He can’t fathom what made Blaine think he had the right to go and have such an important conversation about Kurt _without_ him.  
  
“Yes.” Blaine looks unsure now, having picked up on the dangerous change in Kurt’s mood. “You already weren’t feeling well, and you were killing yourself between two jobs. I just thought the sooner she knew the better, and I didn’t want to add more to your plate on top of everything else.”  
  
There are many responses flying to the tip of Kurt’s tongue, the quickest is to inform one Blaine Anderson that he is in fact not a child, not a little girl at that, and does not need to be managed or taken care of. Blaine means well, Kurt can accept that, but Blaine has to know he’s going to earn himself a swift boot out the door if he thinks he can just work _around_ Kurt, even if it is to make things better for him.  
  
“I understand your reasoning,” Kurt tries to speak slowly and clearly without being harsh. “It really does mean a lot to me that you would try and spare me more stress. Having said that, in the future I would like it if you consulted me on stuff like this. Because it is my life Blaine, and my ‘secret’ or whatever to share or not share. Can you understand that?”  
  
Blaine opens his mouth like he might say something more, then closes it to stare at Kurt, and Kurt wonders what thoughts go through his mind before he slowly nods.  
  
“You’re right.” Blaine lays a hand on Kurt’s thigh. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Relieved, Kurt takes his hand and squeezes it wondering why communication still seems so difficult when they’re both grown men and if it’s ever going to come easily. Maybe one day when they’re eighty they’ll know each other so well they’ll finish each other’s sentences and communicate without speaking. Kurt could sort of live with that.  
  
Kurt's thoughts are interrupted by his bladder. For the first time since he woke up in hospital he’s somewhat comfortable and now he has to move. “Shoot. I need to pee. Can you help me to the bathroom?”  
  
“Course I can, come here” Blaine smiles, allowing Kurt to wrap his arm around his neck and hobble supported to the bathroom. It feels amazing to have someone to rely on, but Kurt drew the line this morning when Blaine tried to carry him. It’s too weird, and he’s not a girl, and besides if Blaine dropped him it would hurt like hell.  
  
******************************************  
  
As it turns out the car ride up to Huletts Landing isn’t half as bad as Kurt thought it might be. Inevitably they can’t help but hit traffic because in the city there is never not traffic, but once the city is well and truly behind them the highway is open and they move along quite nicely. Blaine’s car is comfy and they manage to adjust the seat belt so that it isn’t pressing directly onto Kurt’s wound.  
  
Kurt even manages to sleep for a bit, and when he’s awake they amuse themselves by singing along to the radio. By the time they arrive at the lake house they’re both exhausted and it’s pretty late.  
Huletts Landing is more of a hamlet than a village, perched on the edge of Lake George. Lake George is a hot vacation spot and some areas can get highly congested with tourists and vacationing families. Huletts Landing though, is a quiet stretch of land that juts out into the lake with just enough space to build a few golfing ranges, quiet cabins and a general store on. There are a few picturesque little islands dotted around it, and it’s covered in trees back dropped by mountains. Its secluded location makes it hard to reach (there is only one road going in or out) and that keeps it from being as congested as some of the other parts of the lake. It is the ideal spot in other words for a family to build a summer home.  
  
When Blaine and Kurt arrive all they really want to do is head straight to bed, but of course there are babies to kiss and parents to hug. Kurt’s family won’t be arriving until tomorrow but most of the Anderson’s have already arrived and settled. Naturally it’s chaotic, and naturally disagreements pop up fairly quickly over who will sleep where. Mitchell and Blaine have a tense argument with Elaine who now expects Kurt to sleep in one of the guest rooms with Blaine’s cousin Luis.  
  
This makes no sense seeing as Kurt and Blaine practically live together on a daily basis and it’s not like everyone isn’t going to know they’re boyfriends anyway. Elaine thinks they should sleep apart exactly _because_ they’re boyfriends and there will be impressionable children around.  
  
Mitchell reminds her that Blaine’s a twenty seven year old man and that Kurt has always shared his bed when he has stayed with them. Which Elaine points out might have been a mistake all things considering. She barely lets that comment settle before she throws in the argument that Regina and Tyler weren’t allowed to share a bed until they were engaged and that it is only fair to hold to the same rule now that Kurt and Blaine are courting again.  
  
Kurt informs everyone that while they may now be a couple he and Blaine are most certainly not ‘courting,’ that it isn’t 1952, and that he and Blaine may not decide to ever get married but that doesn’t negate their validity as a couple.  
  
This earns him a disappointed look from Elaine, and when Blaine and Mitchell agree she gives the both of them withering looks but she eventually relents. Kurt has to smile a little bit despite his exhaustion and his frustration with the whole thing. He knows that Blaine is the baby of the family and Elaine will always have certain ideas about how things should or shouldn’t be for him. It’s cute sometimes, when it isn’t interfering with his sleep or being able to curl in with Blaine at night.  
  
And then the following day Kurt’s portion of the family gathering arrives.  
  
It might seem odd to you that the Hummel-Hudson household should be invited to such an exclusive “Anderson” event such as celebrating a birthday and the birth of a child, and you would be correct. Blaine and Kurt have not been a couple long enough to warrant such an invitation, nor have the members of Kurt’s family spent more than a grand total of a day or two in the presence of any Anderson excepting of course Blaine.  
  
But perhaps you have already noticed for yourself that couple or no, Kurt and Blaine have been a constant part of each other’s lives for close to nine years now. The two families have learned of each other through their boys and the ups and downs in their relationship. They have each in turn trusted the other with the care and provision of their son over summers and holidays. Parents of course talk, and they have settled into an easy accord that if not quite friendship is certainly sunny with a chance.  
  
From the safe perch of observers they realized long ago what Kurt and Blaine have only just. The Hummels and the Anderson’s are now connected, and there isn’t much use in pretending like they aren’t.  
  
If anything it is the timing and the situation that makes the invitation so absurd. Mitchell and Elaine Anderson have just learned that their son’s lover is a prostitute. Kurt has just come through a medical scare, and while they are extremely grateful that it turned out to be nothing more dangerous than an ruptured appendix, they, like Kurt and Blaine, can only think about how much worse it could have been and might one day be.  
  
Kurt now works for Elaine and Regina. They offered it in the hopes that Kurt would see other options for himself and take advantage of those options. While they love him and his work it is a business they are trying to run, and it will severely damage their business if Kurt’s second job gets revealed to the wrong people. You may have noticed that Kurt’s secret is not exactly getting easier to keep, in fact the number of people who know is steadily increasing. This is the way truth works: it always outs. The Anderson’s are not perfect, but they risk much for Kurt, the most valuable of which is Blaine himself.  
  
But the key thing you need to know about the following is this. Elaine Anderson has sat up each night since Kurt’s appendix scare thinking what every one of them has thought in the dark corners of their minds. It could have been HIV. One day it might be and her son, her baby boy, has tied himself to Kurt. For a mother this is simply too much, and no amount of love for someone else’s child is ever going to trump what she feels for her own.  
  
Elaine Anderson is a business woman and she like you has noted that the truth is showing itself regardless of Kurt’s resistance. She is well aware that she cannot force her son and Kurt to part without damage being done that perhaps might not ever be repaired, and she doesn’t have any real faith that it would work even if she tried. But she is a mother, and this is her son and she cannot simply sit and watch. She is well aware of Kurt’s bond with his family, in particular his father. If there is anything or anyone that could shake Kurt Hummel enough to wake him up, she thinks that it would be Burt.  
  
She could out right call Burt, but that would be a betrayal that Kurt would hate her for and that Blaine would never forgive; resentment is an easy distraction and Elaine wants nothing to distract Kurt from the truth. Elaine and Blaine are a lot alike, they are giving people. But her son’s life is not something she is willing to give, and when the situation calls for it she can be as shrewd as anyone else. This invitation is all about helping the truth along.  
  
*********************  
  
Things are going far better than Kurt expected. Yes it’s nuts from the moment that Kurt and Blaine pick his family up from the airport, but it’s the good sort of family nuts. Finn’s the first one Kurt spots on account of the fact that he towers over everyone else. Despite Kurt’s trepidation over the whole thing he can’t help but feel excited as he waves and weaves through the crowd towards them.  
  
He’s a little surprised at himself and Finn when they slide into an awkward hug, but then again it’s been almost two years since they saw each other in person and not through Skype or something so hugs are warranted. Finn sort of crushes him though, and Kurt’s still healing from surgery so it doesn’t exactly last longer than a few seconds.  
  
“Good to see you man,” Finn greets him with enthusiasm when they part and Kurt doesn’t really get a chance to respond before Carol and Quinn are reaching out to him for hugs with excited exclamations. Kurt leans down to peer into the carrier Quinn holds and gets his first look at his nephew TJ Rex Hudson while Finn busies himself shaking hands with Blaine like they’re at a political convention and Kurt hears him say, “Thanks for picking us up, because I really didn’t want to take a taxi. A friend of a friend says he knew a guy who got abducted by a cab driver, and he was like a cannibal or something...”  
  
Kurt never finds out what happened to the friend of a friends friend who got abducted by a cannibal cab driver because then Burt is standing in front of him and his father is grinning from ear to ear and looking him over like he has got to memorize him before he disappears.  
  
“Come here kid.” Burt says with a smile and Kurt doesn’t really care that he’s twenty-six nearly twenty-seven, and his father is still calling him kid like he’s sixteen.  
  
“Dad.” It’s all Kurt gets out before he’s in Burt’s arms, and he can’t deny that he clings; they both do. The smell of him is exactly the way Kurt remembers from growing up, clean and masculine with that barely perceptible musk that only working hours inside car engines can leave. He holds Kurt fiercely like the strength of his arms and will alone is enough to keep him whole and happy and Kurt hurts for them both because he knows just how much Burt has missed him.  
  
Burt has never complained too much about the distance or Kurt’s missing holidays and always forgetting to call. He gets that Kurt is grown and that life gets busy, but Kurt has always known just the same that Burt wishes he would find the time. And Kurt feels like he’s sixteen again, because he’s crying and trying to wipe at his tears and pull himself together for both their sakes but failing, and Burt is smiling at him.  
  
“You look great, Kurt. Getting kind of skinny though, ‘fraid I was gonna break you there for a second.” Kurt lets out a trembling laugh in response as Blaine wraps an arm around his waist.  
  
“Kurt works too hard, but we’re working on it,” he assures Burt and Kurt laughs again.  
  
“This guy won’t stop shoving food in my mouth every time I turn around. I’m worried it’s becoming some sort of fetish,” he says and all of them share in laughter this time, and Kurt feels unquestionably good.  
  
The drive back is loud and chatty and most of the talk revolves around Finn and Burt and their work at the garage. Quinn tells TJ’s delivery story and Finn spends a good ten minutes explaining how it was a super manly thing to sing You’re Having My Baby in the E.R. shortly before passing out. It gets slightly uncomfortable when Carol asks him how work has been since turning down his promotion but Kurt is saved from the awkwardness of lying through his teeth when TJ starts crying and Finn and Quinn start scrambling around for a bottle.  
  
Once they join the Anderson household things just get busier and louder so the weekend just seems to hurl past Kurt in a haze of laughter, bad jokes, and long walks along the lake. Walks with the whole Hudmel-Anderson bunch are an event, and the walks he and Blaine take by themselves to get away from it all are treasured relief.  
  
Mitchell suggests fishing Saturday morning and what follows is something Kurt forever thereafter calls the ‘Great Fishing Fiasco’ but it’s one of his best memories because he and his dad got a boat together and even though fishing is decidedly not Kurt’s idea of a good time, it was wonderful just being together and trying new things like old times.  
  
Admittedly Kurt doesn’t do much fishing. He’s content to sit and watch, listening to his dad explain the apparently riveting good time that is fishing. Occasionally over on the shore Blaine will call out something, usually something teasing, and Kurt will roll his eyes and shout some vaguely cutting remark back.  
  
“Hey, you mind flirting a little quieter?” Burt asks gruffly, the slightest hint of a smile on his face. “You scare away the fish shouting over the lake. It’s no wonder they aren’t biting.”  
  
“How come we never went fishing when I was a kid?” Kurt asks out of curiosity. “Isn’t it supposed to be like the ultimate father son bonding experience?”  
  
“Kurt, when you we four you wouldn’t eat your dinner until I made us tea and read you Angelina Ballerina.” Burt snorts. “We had plenty of ultimate father son bonding experiences.”  
  
“I guess we did,” Kurt agrees smiling fondly at his father. His childhood had not been perfect by any means, but Burt has been a constant. It used to be them against the world, and he couldn’t have asked for a better partner in that endeavor or a better father. He bites his lip and looks away as he thinks about what a disappointment he turned out to be. He hates to think that way but isn’t it the honest truth. His father would be nothing but disappointed if he knew.  
  
“So what’s going on kid?” His father asks, taking him by surprise.  
  
“Pardon?”  
  
“Come on, Kurt, I know when something’s going on with you. So talk to me. What’s going on?”  
  
“Nothing,” Kurt musters up some semblance of a smile. “I guess I’m still worn out from the surgery. I’m fine dad. I promise.”  
  
No, he’s not and they both know it. His heart pounds painfully hard. Burt gives him this hard look as if to say he knows that Kurt is lying and is about to call him on it but Kurt is saved from whatever might have come from that look by the sudden jerk of his fishing pole.  
  
What followed was hilarious in retrospect, or so Blaine insists with each retelling. Overly excited and slightly panicked Kurt reeled in his very first fish under his fathers rushed instruction, and he’s not proud to say that when the thing flopped right in his lap and writhed he may have been thinking more about saving his brand new California wash skinnies and not so much about capsizing the boat.  
  
Their family, both in boats and on the shoreline, had a good laugh and when he and Burt made it back to the dock Blaine fell under the delusion that it was cute to smack his boyfriend in the ass with an oar as he struggled onto the dock. As it turns out, if you grab an oar it makes it easy for someone to pull you back in the water, but it’s lucky for Kurt that once you’re back in the water it’s pretty easy to capsize a tiny fishing boat built for two; he got his revenge.  
  
Kurt’s favorite moment outside of the fishing fiasco comes Saturday night when he and Blaine return from a walk- and by walk I mean they made out in the woods on a blanket because there were too many people around to risk doing anything in the house- and find Quinn and Finn sitting on a blanket out on the dock. He and Blaine go inside and bring out some more blankets and a couple thermoses full of warm milk and the four of them sit out beneath the stars and talk.  
  
With Blaine’s head resting on his shoulder, their hands entwined, the warm blanket around their shoulders to protect against the chill of an October night, Kurt has a moment of surrealism.  
  
He remembers a night like this, only Wes and David were in Finn and Quinn’s place and it was early summer and the night was warmer. Sean had dumped him, he’d gone through his first string of rebounds and it had all left him tired. That’s why he’d gone outside to be by himself in the first place he recalls. Because he’d felt tired. So unbelievably tired, and his friends were something like his father he guessed because they’d somehow known.  
  
They hadn’t let him be alone and all of it had just sort of melted away and ceased to matter because sitting there them, life had just seemed sort of simple. He’d happy because in that one fleeting moment everything that he needed he’d somehow felt he had. He’d fallen asleep wrapped up with Blaine on the dock to the sound of David snoring and Regina had come out and snapped a picture.  
  
That night, Kurt feels the same peace he’d felt that summer back when he was nineteen. He feels closer to the boy he once was, but there’s no changing the marks that years and experience have left. He’s still a man, still changed. It’s just that Kurt feels more like _Kurt_ than he can even explain. In that moment he can almost bring himself to believe in the future, that though it might not be easy things will work out for good.  
  
And then it breaks.  
  
Tyler’s parents arrive on Sunday night for Regina’s big birthday dinner/ baby presentation party, along with his two brothers. Tyler’s parents are the type of people who move in the Anderson’s circle, nothing less than proud old money. Kurt has met Alice Bradey a few times before and they neither love nor hate each other.  
  
Kurt was not exactly impressed with the Hilary Clinton routine she seemed to have going on, and he could tell that she was less than impressed when she learned he is from Lima and the son of a mechanic. But it’s not like they are enemies, they’ve just simply dismissed each other in the past. This time however, from the moment she enters the house and spots Kurt Alice seems to have it in for him. She wrinkles her nose at him like she smells something bad during the greetings and brushes him off like he hasn’t just said hello to her.  
  
She’s cold to Kurt’s family too but they don’t seem to be taking it to heart (Quinn whispers in Kurt’s ear that she wouldn’t be so bitchy if she ever dared appear in a dress like that) so Kurt initially ignores it. Now they’re eating and they’ve only just finished the starters and she has started grilling Blaine on his career and whether or not he has _serious_ plans for the future and will join United Banks with his father.  
  
Blaine responds politely as always, but he’s clearly uncomfortable and so is everyone else. When she starts questioning about his personal life, if he has ever thought any about getting _serious_ with someone, it gets even more awkward because it’s apparent to anyone with eyes that Kurt and Blaine are a couple. Alice _knows_ they are and it’s lost on no one that Alice simply does not regard Kurt as ‘serious relationship’ material. But Blaine just politely informs her that he is in fact dating Kurt and happily so, as if there’s any doubt at all that Alice didn’t already know that.  
  
Kurt’s family looks a mixture of confused and irritated (about the same way Kurt is sure he looks) and everyone else just looks pained. Regina tries to steer the conversation away from Blaine and Kurt, and Kurt’s sure she isn’t exactly thrilled with all the focus being on them when it’s her birthday weekend and Kyle’s presentation party.  
  
Since something seems to have crawled up Alice’s ass and bit her hard, Kurt tries to make himself as inconspicuous as possible as he pushes his food idly around on his plate. Blaine manages to catch his eye, giving him a look of warning that prompts Kurt to smile thinly and put forth the effort at eating, but honestly he’s not really hungry. The entire day as been just plain exhausting with Alice riding his ass and he’s struggling to get his head around things. Maybe he wasn’t well enough to make the trip after all. Or maybe it’s something else.  
  
“I’m still trying to decide whether Kyle looks more like Reggie or Tyler,” Elaine muses as everyone’s attention turns to Kyle sleeping at the side of the table in his car seat.  
  
“I can see both of us in him,” Regina comments before turning to face Blaine. “But you know who he looks the most like.”  
  
Most of Blaine’s side of the family (his grandmother, his uncle Morgan and cousin Luis) nod in agreement when she gestures towards Blaine with a nod of the head.  
  
“Me?” Blaine asks in confusion.  
  
“Blaine, he’s the spitting double of you!” Morgan informs him vehemently. “Especially when you were a baby. Ain’t that right Mitch?” Mitchell nods fondly and Blaine blushes. Kurt grins, Blaine looks so embarrassed, like he had something to do with Kyle favoring him when in reality Regina and Blaine both heavily favor their mother and it all just sort of evens out.  
  
“I’ve never really noticed. Well he’s certainly got the curls that’s for sure. Poor kid, Reggie loved them but it’s different with girls. I’ll have to teach him the proper gel techniques” Blaine comments, examining Kyle’s sleeping form carefully. Regina looks comically appalled.  
  
“You might be his godfather Blaine but I forbid you to come near that poor little baby with anything close to hair gel,” Kurt warns with a laugh and chuckles go around the table.  
  
“Godfather? Yes well, thank heavens _that_ is just a formality. God forbid you ever actually be in a position where you were responsible for Kyle.” Alice comments tersely, earning her daggers from both Tyler and Regina.  
  
Okay what was that? Alice has never had a problem with Blaine before. He after all is an Anderson, worthy of her notice unlike a mechanics kid from Ohio. So what was with that little dig? Kurt looks up to find her staring not at Blaine but at him, that same ‘I smell something rotten’ wrinkle to her nose. What the hell is this? Why does she have such a problem with him all of a sudden? She barely knows him!  
  
“I especially love his eyes,” Regina is very quick to change the subject, looking exceedingly uncomfortable. “Just like yours and moms, but he’s definitely got Ty’s crooked little nose and adorable pout.”  
  
“I’m sorry, my crooked little nose? Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Tyler asks in mock horror.  
  
“Oh don’t act like you’re offended.” Regina laughs. “Whether he ends up looking more like you or Blaine, he’s going to be a _very_ popular little boy. I’m proud and personally feel everyone here should envy us.” This is met with more good natured laughter but the good mood is short lived.  
  
“I personally think he favors Regina, and let’s hope it stays that way” Alice mutters to her husband maliciously under her breath. “I shudder to think he might favor Blaine and follow _his_ choices. Especially regarding the company he keeps”  
  
“Jesus, what is your problem lady?!” The table shares a collective gasp, including Kurt himself, as they turn to see Quinn staring accusingly at Alice and Gordon. “Which is it: do you have some sort of a problem with Kurt, or do you just like being a bitch?”  
  
Kurt knows that look from back in high-school when she was head cheerleader and prom queen and all of the authority and entitlement that came with it. Alice has nothing on Quinn when it comes to control issues. Kurt knows from experience how ruthless Quinn can be, but they’ve never exactly been close so he’s honestly surprised that she’s the first to call Alice out.  
  
“How dare you talk to me like that!” The small woman yells back at Quinn, the expression on her face so clearly appalled that this little nobody this _mechanic's_ wife from Lima has the audacity to look down on her.  
  
Burt is opening his mouth to say something when Carol lays a hand on his arm and Blaine’s father beats him to the punch.  
  
“Alice. Mrs. Hudson is right,” Mitchell interjects sternly. “You’re entitled to your opinion but I will not allow you as a guest in my home to sit there, eating the food my wife has cooked for you, all the while passing judgment on my youngest child and his partner!”  
  
“Well clearly you don’t know your youngest child!” Alice smiles almost triumphantly. “If you knew what his _partner_ was really like then maybe you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him.” Kurt’s stomach plummets to his toes because... oh god....please just no. How does she even know? Who told her? And now she’s going to say it.  
  
“Alice for God’s sake don’t do this here,” Kurt hears her husband Gordon whisper furiously to his irate wife.  
  
“No Gordon, it sickens me! There sits our beautiful, innocent, grandson and at the very same table is this little whore and I-”  
  
“For God’s sake woman enough!” Mitchell Anderson all but screams even as Burt is leaping to his feet with Carol trying to calm him. Finn is grabbing Quinn to keep her in her own seat as Kyle and TJ both start crying.  
  
“I want you out. Your family is welcome to stay or go as they please but you need to leave. Now!” Mitchel orders but Kurt’s father isn’t having it.  
  
“No! I want an apology god damn it. Where the _hell_ do you get off lady, calling my son something like that?” He demands and Kurt can barely hear him over the sound of roaring in his ears.  
  
Tyler and the rest of his family look painfully embarrassed and Elaine won’t meet Kurt’s eyes. She’s incredibly pale and her hands are shaking where they clutch the table cloth. Kurt’s eyes meet Regina’s and she looks furious, close to tears, and he just feels gutted. Some little voice in his head reminds him that this is the second time he has ruined a big night for her.  
  
“Was I not clear? Your son’s a whore!” Alice shrieks at Burt, practically in tears herself. “And you Mitchell ought to be ashamed of yourself! I won’t stay here not another minute. Gordon, Will, Harry let’s go!”  
  
Gordon and Tyler’s brother William stand up and leave quietly, trying hard not to actually look at anyone as they do so, they only stop long enough for Alice to snap at Tyler's younger brother Harry who sighs and reluctantly rises to follow them.  
  
The tension that follows is so thick that it could be cut with a knife, and the silence is only broken by the mewling cries of the two babies and their mothers trying quietly to shush them. It’s all so loud in Kurt’s ears; he can’t even hear the sound of his heart pounding hard in his chest.  
  
“Kurt what the hell’s going on here, what does she mean?” Burt’s eyes are boring into him. They demand an explanation. They beg for anything but the truth.  
  
And Kurt can’t do this. He can’t, he just can’t. Let someone else explain because he has to get out of there. He can bear all their shame filled eyes staring at him. He can bear Regina’s hurt tears, but he cannot...no simply cannot stand there and say the words ‘I’m a whore’ to his father.  
  
That’s all it takes for every last one of Kurt’s pretenses to disappear, and he has never felt more low or worthless in his life. He has done horrible things before but this, breaking his father’s heart like this… This is the single most awful thing he has ever done.  
  
“Kurt, answer me!”  
  
His face heats up like an inferno and he feels extremely lightheaded as he stands up, the pain in his abdomen suddenly feeling somehow worse than when his appendix failed. Everything burns, his skin itches, and the tears are just flowing and Burt’s making this sound, like a groan or a tire losing air and Kurt can’t even see his face because of the tears in his eyes.  
  
“Dad...I...I’m s-s-so, s-sorry.” Kurt can’t even speak, his voice is garbled by sobs and it’s like years of practice disappear because he’s lisping and then he’s backing up blindly just needing to run.  
  
Blaine’s normally reassuring arms come to hold him around his waist, and Kurt reacts like he has been bit because they’re too crushing. Blaine is just one more person he has loved and disappointed. Look at this! Both their families in tears, everything in pieces like someone dropped a bomb in the middle of the room. They’re all bleeding. How is he supposed to feel when he’s the cause of it all?  
  
“Kurt. Please-”Kurt hates the fact that Blaine is touching him right now. He hates it hates it hates it, hates _everything_! Hates himself.  
  
“Don’t!” He wrenches himself away from Blaine, away from all of them, so roughly that he has no balance and too much momentum once he breaks free. White hot pains shoot through his lower half where his stitches are and he gasps quick and sharp as everything goes fuzzy. He’s vaguely aware of tripping and falling backward. He hits the back of his head on the dining room table, and he hears several cries of shock although he can’t identify the voices.  
  
Someone’s tapping the side of his face, repeating his name over and over again, telling him to look at them.  
Yes, that’s definitely his father’s voice he thinks over the pounding pressure in his skull. Kurt’s last thought is that now even this touch bites him, then he completely passes out.


	18. On your knees and out of luck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What comes after the storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: No trigger warnings for this chapter, but if it tells you anything it's the last chapter I can say that on. The following three chapters will touch rather heavily on sexual abuse and self harm. So buckle up you guys, have courage, remember that the ending satisfies enjoy the moments of calm and listen to the truly brilliant song Kurt and Blaine sing in this chapter.

You are about to witness nothing less than the breaking of a person and the breaking of a family. That is all there is to be said about what follows.  
  
If you are like Shane, than this is the moment you have feared the most, so perhaps one more thing can be said of it. Sometimes the pieces need to get smashed so that they might rearrange.  
  
Kurt is no stranger to change, and he has longed for a change for quite a while now. He has been stuck, unable to move because there is no easy way out for the person he has become, the man up to his neck in sinking sand.  
  
Kurt is one of the fallen angels, but he has always imagined himself safe aloft. But those delusions have been ripped from him. The wings he fabricated have well and truly been torn from him. The plummet is inevitable.  
  
“Kurt?” He can hear his father calling his name gently, although Burt sounds like he’s very far away. As the pain in his head catches up with him Kurt remembers what happened, and automatically he reaches out for Blaine, only to find he isn’t there. He can tell without even opening his eyes that Blaine isn’t there. He can almost innately sense when Blaine’s close by these days and he’s not sure when he acquired this gift.  
  
“Wake up Kurt.” This time it’s Regina’s voice coaxing him back to the land of the living. It makes Kurt want to curl into a ball and never wake up ever but that is not an option. When he manages to crack first one and then the other eye open he sees that he’s in Blaine’s bedroom on the bed they’ve shared the last couple of days. Regina sits on the edge of the bed and his father is crouched at the side. The room is void of others accept for Elaine who stands in the doorway looking lost.  
  
Kurt finds it easier to look at them all than you might think. He has reached some sort of peak for emotional pain and once he reached the top, nothing at all can touch him because nothing registers as pain worth noting anymore. It’s not numbness, that’s too much of an action word. It’s simply a void.  
  
His father looks odd. He’s stroking Kurt’s brow like he’s a boy again with a fever, but his teeth are clenched so tightly Kurt can see the shake in his jaw.  
  
“Where’s Blaine?” He asks quietly, shutting his eyes against the light. The light makes his headache worse.  
  
“He’s helping drive the others to a hotel for the night. Dad thought it was best to cut the weekend short and get people out of the way for a while,” Regina explains tonelessly. Kurt laughs, short and awkward, because it occurs to him that not only did his entire family hear Alice Bradey’s little outburst, but Blaine’s ninety year old Grandma did too. It’s hilariously macabre. No one laughs with him, and that’s okay. He’s not expecting company.  
  
“Your grandmother must be having heart palpitations.”  
  
“Grandma was helping herself to her third sherry at the time, so she’s oblivious of the whole event. That’s one consolation from the world’s worst birthday ever at least,” Regina adds and that’s the first time Kurt notices she’s still crying.  
  
“That’s good,” he responds, but it’s off, everything feels tilted and off. “Regina, I’m so sorry for ruining this weekend for you.” And Kurt is, even if he can’t muster up any other emotion other than dry right now.  
  
“Stop Kurt. Fuck!” Kurt jerks like he has been slapped and he wonders at the intense reaction when he still feels like white paper inside, flat and colorless. “Alice ruined it, not you. In fact I’ve never seen you so quiet. If anything I’m sorry, she’s my mother-in-law but I should have said something to stop her. She’s a bitch, and she never thought I was good enough for Tyler. Can you believe that? Just because her money has been moldering longer. Well fuck her.”  
  
Apparently Regina has decided not to be furious with him, but that doesn’t surprise Kurt. She’s one of the good people remember? They always try and hold onto the man in the quicksand. Kurt reaches out and takes her hand, and she rubs it softly but he can’t take comfort from her touch. Not when he can see her tears and feel the tension leaking off of his father. The good people trying to hold onto him are sinking too. Hadn’t he already realized that once already? But he’s selfish. He has realized that too. He has been so selfish, and now they are all paying the price.  
  
“How did she know?” Kurt doesn’t know why the question slips out now, because he hadn’t been thinking of Elaine a moment before but his eyes are finding hers where she stands in the doorway.  
  
It’s no big revelation connecting the dots, realizing that Elaine pushed for this gathering in the hopes that something like this would happen. The truth of it settles over him so easily that Kurt wonders if he didn’t always know, and he didn’t stop it because somewhere inside he has wanted this. He’s wanted it all to be out there. Now it is, and he’s dried out like a desert and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.  
  
“William and Jeremiah work in the same firm. I thought there was a good chance that Jeremiah would have told him something,” Elaine answers him with little inflection in her voice. She looks just as tired as Kurt feels.  
  
Yes, Kurt can’t deny that Jeremiah was getting bolder and bolder with his anger and now that he thinks about it he remembers Jeremiah had told Tyler first. He hadn’t realized how close he was to the Bradey’s. But Elaine had known, and she’d arranged all of this anyway.  
  
“Are you happy now?” Kurt asks. He doesn’t know what she hoped to get from all of this, but somebody might as well be happy on such a terrible night. He wants to be mad at her, he’s sure that he should feel bitterness somewhere inside but he’s still distressingly blank.  
  
“No.” Elaine shakes her head slowly and seems even more directionless than ever.  
But I didn’t expect to be either.”  
  
Kurt turns away from her, his attention already leaving her for the man crouched silently at his bedside.  
  
“Can you both leave?” He asks. “I’d like to talk to my dad.”  
  
Elaine nods, and leaves without uttering another word and Regina gives his hand one last squeeze before getting up from the bed.  
  
“Before I go,” she says. “I wanted you to hear this from me one more time, Kurt. I know you probably expected me to be angry and I am, at Alice for being such a bitch, at the timing, at you for putting yourself through this shit. I can always have another birthday party but there’s only one you Kurt. Tyler and I named Blaine as Kyle’s godfather because Harry’s too young and Will’s an ass. We were going to wait until Blaine got off his ass and married you to ask this, but I think now’s as good a time as any. So how about it, would you be godfather number two?”  
  
Kurt gaps at her, hearing but unable to make sense of her words. She wants him to be a god parent to her child? He’s a prostitute or have they all forgotten? He isn’t going to be anything else ever and what sort of a woman leaves her child in the care of a prostitute.  
  
“Regina I’m a prostitute,” Kurt echoes his own thoughts. “Alice and every other sane adult in the world would have an absolute fit. There would be a custody battle before you could say ‘we’re sorry to inform you’!”  
  
“You’re not listening!” Regina grips his arm tightly. “Screw Alice! Kyle is _my_ little boy and I’d leave him with you and Blaine over the Bradey’s in a heartbeat. And don’t think I’m stupid Kurt Hummel. You’ll probably dump Blaine or some shit acting like a martyr and I don’t fool myself that I can stop you. So it would make me feel better that should I tragically die before I can rope you two idiots back together that I can force you back together to watch over Kyle.”  
  
“The stuff of romantic comedies,” Kurt smiles tightly, he’s genuinely amused but it still feels rusty, like starting up an overheated engine.  
  
“You got it short stuff. And you’d do it too if it meant saving Kyle from the clutches of his dragon of a grandmother so you might as well save us all some trouble and do what makes you happy. Don’t throw away a good thing just because you think it should throw _you_ away. You’re dead wrong either way sweetheart.” Regina leans down to kiss his brow and Kurt bites his lip. She pats Burt on the shoulder as she leaves the bedside. Kurt watches her wipe the tears that haven’t stopped gathering in her eyes as she walks out the door.  
  
And now Kurt is alone with his father, but Kurt can’t look at him. Once he does it starts or it ends and he’s not sure which one he fears most.  
  
“Kurt.” Burt’s voice breaking the silence is so broken, and Kurt is strangely relieved because he finds feeling again. It’s hate, hate for the way his father sounds and for the fact that he is the cause.  
  
“Dad,” Kurt says softly turning on his side and reaching to touch Burt’s arm. “Before you say anything. Can you let me explain?”  
  
Burt does not answer right away. Kurt feels him shudder beneath his hand and he swears his palm smarts. What a stupid thing to ask. There’s nothing he can explain to Burt. He knows that already.  
  
“No. I think, I think you should just...listen.” Burt finally says and it occurs to Kurt that he has heard his father sound this way only once before; after the death of his mother.  
  
He sounds like a man who has done too much crying, too much questioning, to the point that his voice is worn. His eyes are somehow simultaneously alive with pain, thriving with all the questions and pleas he can’t bring his tired voice to utter, and yet dead to the world around him, dull with uselessness. The uselessness of a man backed into a corner by powers beyond his control, powers like death that cannot be overcome. It’s lostness, and Kurt was the one to put it there.  
  
A dark thought walks through his mind. He’d say he wants to kill himself if he didn’t already think the boy his father mourns weren’t already dead.  
  
“K-kurt, Kurt” Burt struggles to get the words out over the emotion twisting in his heart and all over his face. He looks as shocked as Kurt feels that he can’t manage to speak. Burt has always been a man of few words but when he does speak he has always been Kurt’s strong and steady.  
  
The pain they both feel, it twists so powerfully between them that Kurt swears he can feel it in his hands in every shudder and twitch of his body.  
  
“Kurt when you were born...your mom and I knew you were probably gonna be our one a-and I didn’t care y’know ‘cause Lizzy… I thought she was my world and that’s all I needed.” Burt finally looks at him, his eyes still too bright and too hot but Kurt can’t look away this time. “But then that doctor put you in my hands and my world got bigger. It got brighter. I thought, this is my kid, and he’s beautiful and I’m gonna teach him to play ball and he’s gonna be a doctor, or a lawyer or a mechanic... great things. I wanted all of it for you in a split second… and then it just hit me that no matter what you did or who you were, t-that you were mine. I was holding _my_ kid.  
  
“You barely filled my arms... I thought, what if I drop him? God just don’t let me drop him, don’t let him get hurt. And then I thought about everybody else out there that could do it for me and everything that could happen.... I thought how can I protect him? ‘Cause looking at you that first time, you were all that mattered. So I decided not to let anyone hurt you. No one was gonna lay a hand on your head, no one was gonna say anything bad about you. Not to my kid. Not my Kurt!” Burt is loud now, pushing at invisible things and enemies without faces but Kurt shudders beneath it just the same. He’s not alone in that, he can feel his dad’s hand shaking in his and it wrecks him.  
  
“And that’s when you get real scared. ‘Cause there are things a guy just can’t do, even for his kid. A guy has to sit there watching his kid skinnin’ his knees, or gettin’ his heart broken. He’s got to sit there watching his kid try on his mother’s heels and know he’s gonna get hurt, that he’s gonna get bruised and that people are going to hurt him, so he learns to pray. He prays real hard, and he tries even harder to make it safe, make it okay and it isn’t...it isn’t enough. So don’t...don’t _explain_ things to me. You can’t do that, Kurt, because I will never let a stranger hurt you and I sure as hell won’t stand by and let you hurt yourself! Why didn’t you tell me? Was it money? Jesus, Kurt I’d sell the whole damn garage for you in a heartbeat-”  
  
“No!” Kurt shakes his head furiously. “Dad I never meant to hurt you or hurt anyone else _including_ myself. It wasn’t about money, I wasn’t desperate I just…”  
  
“What, Kurt?” Burt’s voice is rough and Kurt winces but his father holds onto him, his eyes wanting the trough, his hands holding Kurt in one piece.  
  
“I wanted to be great at something, anything that wasn’t drudge work in an office somewhere… because I was doing that and, Dad, it felt like disappearing,” Kurt confesses what he hasn’t truly dared to admit to himself. “Every day felt like going invisible, like I was being written off, like I was just lying down and accepting the fact that I was never going to be good for anything but scraps. And one day I just couldn’t, so I did something exciting, something dangerous, and I didn’t regret it. It was like being dead and suddenly coming alive.”  
  
Truth, all truth, but there’s the bigger truth that Kurt can’t accept. The truth that now the job eats at him, that it always has, the truth that he may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire.  
  
“You think I didn’t know what those kids said to you in high school?” Burt asks after a moment’s pause. “You think I didn’t see past all your sarcasm and all the times you’d stick your nose up in the air and act like none of it could touch you? Kurt I know how special you are and as much torture as it was to watch a bunch of morons tell you something different it’s hell realizing how much you believed it.”  
  
“I don’t! Being an escort doesn’t make me worthless regardless of what you and Alice Bradey think!”  
  
“Hey!” Burt snaps and Kurt flinches. “Do not lump me and that woman in the same camp. You’re selling yourself like you come cheap when you should understand that there’s not enough god damn money in the bank to afford you. I don’t like it, not for you, Kurt. Not for my kid. I might be uneducated or whatever the hell, but I’m trying my best here and that means making sure you’re doing your best.”  
  
Kurt knows he is, knows his anger is just another shoddy defense and that his father has never before let him get away with such paltry defenses and he won’t now.  
  
“I know. I’m sorry dad, I’m just… I don’t know what you want me to do.”  
  
“I want you to tell me...y-you just tell me what happens next.” Burt’s voice finally breaks, and he sniffs heavily wiping his eyes with the back of his palm before he can manage to go on. “What huh? Do you come back home with us to Lima, see a therapist? Do I leave you here hoping you’re getting the help you need, trying not to worry? Do we fight? Do I lose you, what? You just tell me...just tell me what it is you need and I’ll do it. I would have done it, but I didn’t guess right, or I missed somethin’...so you just tell me now, what is it gonna take to show you how much you matter. I’ll take you anywhere Kurt.”  
  
Kurt is in tears. He sits up and places his hands on his father’s shoulders because he needs to touch him, needs to ingrain the memory of his strong body shaking in his mind. The same arms that lifted him high, and swept under the bed for monsters now quiver beneath his palms. What horrible thing has he done here, what horrible horrible thing?  
  
“I’m sorry.” Kurt says for what seems like the millionth time. “I’m so so sorry. Dad I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m...” and Kurt’s words are muffled as Burt pulls him into a hug, and he buries his face into his father’s shirt. Their tears, their apologies all of it is muddled in Kurt’s ears.  
  
One thing sticks out to him, sharp and clear. He loves this man, his father. He has hurt him deeply by hurting himself and that in itself hurts; it’s an endless cycle of hurting. If he loves him, if he loves himself, he’ll break the cycle.  
  
**************************  
  
Kurt will not go back to Lima. It’s not just that he knows he’ll be miserable, it’s not just that he can’t muster the desire to start over and that he fears he will fail at ‘recovery’ and continually disappoint his family. It’s mostly Blaine. Blaine is here, and Blaine might wait for him but maybe not. Out of sight out of mind they say. It sounds really romantic to say when Kurt’s right there that the beautiful boy falls for the prostitute and is willing to stand by him, so very fucking pretty woman, but when he’s gone?  
  
It’s not romantic at all waiting for the prostitute to feel normal, to feel worth second chances when they never felt worth the first one. And really hasn’t he proved himself right? People don’t do this. People don’t do this to themselves and they don’t do this to their families, and Kurt has so that makes him everything low and nasty he has ever thought about himself in the darkest parts of his mind.  
  
He’s not stupid; he knows rationally that isn’t true, that this is a self-destructive and viscous cycle of thought. But since when did rational ever change the way a person honestly feels? Feelings work on an entirely different playing field, and they can only be spoken feeling to feeling.  
  
He feels like shit to put it plainest, he’s trapped in it to the point of numbness. So he’s not going to Lima. Because he’s an adult his father can’t force him to get help, can’t force him to do a damn thing and Burt knows that. That’s why he’s inside with Carol looking like someone died, and Kurt is standing out on the dock wishing he had.  
  
But Kurt, for all the emptiness he feels, even for how broken he can get, has always been at heart a survivor. After an hour of argument they had reached a compromise. He has promised his father that he’ll see a therapist and that he’ll even let whoever it is call him with updates on top of his own promised daily calls.  
  
Burt doesn’t want to leave New York at all, but Kurt wants him to leave it. Whether he sinks or swims, he isn’t going to let his father sit there and watch it. He says what his father needs to hear, that he has seen some sort of holy light and wants to change, that the Andersons will be here to help. The Andersons heartily agree, they all seem so relieved and hopeful, but Kurt truthfully would have said anything he had to in order to get his father to agree to leave.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t want his support, not that he doesn’t plan to give forming a new life a decent try. Truthfully, he has never wanted the ability to turn back time so badly, would sell his soul to whatever devil appeared and offered to erase it all. But it’s no holy light, and Kurt doesn’t believe for a moment he can ever get past what he has done. No, not for one moment, and it appalls him that he’s only realizing now that he never really has.  
  
So Kurt pretended to sleep, pretended not to hear all the whispering, or Finn’s hesitant knock on the door. He pretended to sleep through Quinn coming in and pulling up his covers, tried not to give himself away when she reminded him that she knew what it was like to make a mistake you couldn’t take back. And when he couldn’t pretend any longer he went out to the dock. Half of him considers drowning as a smarter alternative to living.  
  
Kurt heard Blaine’s car come up the drive hours ago. He’d stopped in once when he was fake sleeping but Kurt had kept up his pretense. Regina had been right about one thing. He thinks the smartest thing to do right now would be to break up with Blaine. He has his whole life to fix, maybe he can’t, and even if he can it’s sure to be a long messy process and after everything- after watching the bomb drop on the Andersons and his father shatter again- who the hell does he think he is trying to be someone’s boyfriend?  
  
Kurt has spent a good hour wrestling with his thoughts, trying to make some concrete decision and failed. He doesn’t know how he feels now except that he suddenly knows he needs to see Blaine and exactly where he’ll find him. It’s late and everyone else still in residence has gone to bed, handling the emotional turmoil of the evening as best they can with much needed rest.  
  
Not Blaine Anderson, because Blaine won’t sleep when he knows Kurt is in distress. Blaine is in the parlor sitting on a piano bench, hands stroking black and white keys as he pours heart and soul into words that will always show more of him than he can bring himself to simply say. This is how Blaine deals, how he eases his fears and his pains. Kurt knows the song, just as he knows why Blaine needs [to sing](http://pl.st/s/806627601) it now and why he himself felt so pulled here.  
  
 _And I took you by the hand, and we stood tall. And remembered our own land, what we lived for._  
  
As Kurt fully enters the room Blaine looks up, but he does not cease the music his hands pull from the keys, nor the song he sings. His eyes search Kurt’s as they sing the next bars, holding him and demanding without words that he feel.  
  
 _And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears and love will not break your heart. So dismiss your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there. With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair._  
  
This is not the first duet that Blaine and Kurt have ever shared, but you should know that this is one of the rare ones that Kurt knows is _for_ him, that every single word is covered in emotion that Blaine pulls from inside and all of it is for him and about him. In the safe halls that they provide Kurt is free to respond; he always does.  
  
 _“And now I cling to what I knew. I saw exactly what was true. But oh no more. That's why I hold, that's why I hold with all I have. That's why I hold.”_ Kurt sings the familiar lyrics as he crosses the room to stand next to Blaine on the bench. _"I will die alone and be left there. Well I guess I'll just go home, though God knows where. Because death is just so full and man so small. Well I'm scared of what's behind and what's before._ "  
  
Blaine takes his hand. It halts the melody but they need no music for this. Kurt is scared, he doesn’t know whether to hold on or let go but Blaine’s hand in his is solid, sure, and he knows that he has to try. They sing together.  
  
 _And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears, and love will not break your heart. So dismiss your fears. Get over your hill and see what you find there, with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair._  
  
“I thought I might find you here” Kurt says softly after their voices have died. He threads his hands into Blaine’s hair, granting himself the right to touch, to hold with everything he has something that is pure and lovely. Perhaps one day those lyrics will be true, that all the tears will dry up and love will come freely.  
  
“I stopped by the room earlier,” Blaine says, arm slipping around Kurt’s waist. “You were pretending to be sleeping.”  
  
“You knew?”  
  
“Yes. How’s the head?” Blaine asks as Kurt sits next to him on the bench. Blaine scoots to make room and he gently runs his finger over the lump on Kurt’s head. The taller man rests his head on Blaine’s shoulder and shrugs.  
  
“Regina told me she asked you to be Kyle’s god father,” Blaine mentions. “I’m glad. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to call you Don Kurt or anything.”  
  
“Damn, and I was really hoping to wear one of those nifty suites,” Kurt chuckles quietly.  
  
Blaine reaches for his pocket and pulls out Kurt’s cell phone and Kurt frowns questioningly at it. It has been turned off since they left the city (to avoid Sue roping him back to work early) so he had just left it in Blaine’s car without much thought.  
  
“I know you’re not happy right now, Kurt.” Blaine explains. “And I know you’re upset about everything that happened and you’re uncertain of the future. I am too. But we promised each other that we’d fight for this. I love you, always. I mean that with everything I have right now.”  
  
Kurt holds the phone in his hands and swallows a sob. Blaine knows him it seems. He has wordlessly handed Kurt back his world, that thing he hates, but can’t let go, can’t see himself living without. It has got barbs in him that will cut when he breaks free; Alice and all the others like her in the world are proof of that. It pulls him back in because while he might hate it it’s something he’s good at it. It’s something he knows how to control and there at least he doesn’t fail.  
  
Sue knows that he’s not working right now, and she also knows that he’s spending a week away, but that doesn’t mean she can go that long without speaking to him or trying to rope him in to taking clients. Sure enough, as Kurt checks his voicemail there are seven messages from her. Blaine just sits there, holding him close, accepting this monstrous thing that has a hold on him as if it doesn’t have teeth and won’t eat the both of them alive.  
  
Kurt doesn’t even bother to listen to them; anything that Sue has to say can wait. He deletes them all. Because he might be selfish, he might be weak, but he’s no coward and he can’t simply crawl into a hole and die. So that means living, and if he must live then he wants certain things for his life.  
  
He never wants to put that look in his father’s eyes again and he never wants to feel like he did when Alice talked down to him. He does want to continue at A&A Brides because the work is challenging and it’s fun having to continually top himself. He wants to be Kyle’s godfather and he wants to do all of it with Blaine in his life. He can’t do that if he lets go of him or if he hangs on to monsters that eat them. He doesn’t feel like he can let it go, and he probably wouldn’t if he was pressured into it outright, but with time maybe he can; maybe that’s where the help comes in.  
  
“Blaine I told my dad I’d see a therapist. I think that would be a good start...when we get home,” Kurt says, maybe as assurance, maybe as a plea as he bites his lip. He hears Blaine’s quiet little gasp and watches him apprehensively.  
  
“You don’t...you don’t think I’m crazy or something, do you?”  
  
“No, Kurt. Getting counseling to help you sort through things doesn’t make you crazy, it makes you smart,” Blaine gives his shoulders a reassuring squeeze.  
  
“So what was that noise for?”  
  
“It’s just that you said home. I realize you might have just meant the city now that I think about it, but for a moment I thought you meant home, as in my apartment.” Blaine flushes as Kurt’s eyes widen and he fidgets uncomfortably. “Not that we have to stay there, your place is bigger. Oh God, not that I’m asking you to move in with me I just meant...”  
  
Kurt grins as Blaine stammers on. He turns and swings a leg over the bench until he’s straddling his boyfriends lap and he goes quickly and rather adorably tongue tied. Kurt’s arms wrap around his neck while Blaine’s hands reach to hold him by the waist.  
  
He nuzzles one of Blaine’s flushed cheeks and murmurs fondly, “You’re a hopeless romantic. You know that?”  
  
Blaine shrugs, a slight grin forming as he points out, “So are you. I think that’s why you like it so much.”  
  
“Maybe,”Kurt allows, and then as if prompted by the same thought they lean towards each other and they kiss, short but deep. It leaves Kurt a little dizzy, a lot hungry and slightly overwhelmed. “You’re my home, and wherever we can be together that’s good enough for me,” he says, breath tickling against Blaine’s ear and he can feel his lovers responding grin.  
  
It’s not just sentiment; regardless of what Blaine thinks Kurt is no romantic- not anymore. He doesn’t say stuff like that just to say it. It means too much, hurts too deep, when it’s not true. Blaine is his center of gravity, the starting and finishing line, his island in a raging sea. He is home and he’d be a fool to give that up. So he never will. Not today, not tomorrow, and as for just then, just then he’s dying to feel him.  
  
They sit there making out like teenagers for a moment or two before Kurt pulls away just enough to whisper breathily in Blaine’s ear, “I’ve always wanted to have sex on top of a piano. I don’t know, would that be too pretty woman do you think?”  
  
They’re both laughing as Blaine nearly injuries himself getting him on top of the piano lid almost before he finishes asking.  
  
Kurt is one of the fallen angels, and he has always imagined himself safe aloft. Those delusions have been ripped from him. The wings he fabricated have well and truly been torn from him. The plummet was inevitable. But it did not kill him. The road to recovery is a steep one but Kurt will attempt to take it. He is one of the lucky ones, one of the rare few with a chance.  
  
You may be tempted to think that Blaine or Burt are the reasons behind this. You are not entirely wrong, they are crucial elements, but only just and never quite enough.  
  
The switch from I can’t, to I can, I want to and I will. That can’t be anything but Kurt. You’re a person too. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that this is the hardest step of all.


	19. It's time don't you think?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt struggles with the biggest decision of his life: does he want more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N,/b >:Chapters 19 and 20 focus heavily on the issue of rape. It was impossible for me to consider writing a story of this nature without addressing this issue as it's prevalent in the profession. The the book SDOACG and even the film Pretty Woman touch on it, and I didn't want to do less.While this particular chapter includes discussion of non con that does not directly involve Kurt, the discussion itself might be extremely triggering for some readers so please, as always, respect your limits and read with care.**

Kurt keeps his promise to his father. Though he is admittedly nervous the first time he walks into Dr. Shuester’s office, he bolsters his courage because he does recognize the need for help. The problem is figuring out just what he wants help with. Kurt Hummel has issues; he can admit that. The first of which is a troubling lack of self-esteem, but here’s where it gets complicated.  
  
Kurt has tons of confidence. In some areas he holds himself to the highest standards. He doesn’t wear gap and he won’t use second rate cosmetics, because he may not be born with it, but he’s definitely _worth_ it. Kurt has all kinds of self-value and pride. Doesn’t he?  
  
How is he supposed to get _help_ to recover, when he’s not sure what exactly he’s supposed to be recovering from. What is to recover from? He’s not sick, he’s not crazy and truth be told he doesn’t have a problem escorting, not _really_. The literal act of screwing someone for money simply doesn’t disgust him the way the people around him think it should and Kurt has never been good with conformity. It’s the other things like the lying, and the crazies, and the risks to his health that he has issues with and what does that say about him?  
  
He’s a deviant perhaps?  
  
Is that what he should tell this doctor? Hello, my name is Kurt and I am a sexual deviant. 100% amoral please, punish me, for I am a naughty naughty boy.  
  
He can’t even clean up his act in his own thoughts! This whole endeavor is doomed before it even begins. And besides….The truth is Kurt has legitimate expectations that life is pretty much going to semi-suck after he quits and the whole prostitute thing is always going to be this scarlet letter he’s forced to wear hoping that new acquaintance’s don’t discover.  
  
Who wants to live their whole life with people gasping at them: _you were a what_?! It makes far more sense in Kurt’s mind to stay exactly where he is. Because he might be a prostitute but that doesn’t really bother him and now that everyone close to him already knows he could have a good thing going if he could figure out some way to be safer about it all.  
  
That’s honestly how Kurt feels, and maybe to some reading this it might be glaringly apparent why Kurt needs therapy, but it’s never that apparent to the person in the middle of the soup. Kurt honestly feels directionless, and the only reason he is even sitting in Dr. Shuester’s office is because he can’t ignore the fact that he has caused a lot of damage to himself and his family and he’d like to stop that if at all possible.  
  
Oh and since he’s trying to be honest regarding his feelings with the good Dr. Shue, it also should be noted that he has a problem with the history of it all. He feels like he was someone else once, headed to a different pasture, and he made choices based not on what he wanted but out of something else entirely; he thinks it was a bad something else. There’s that too. Kurt would like to fix that but he doesn’t hold out much hope that he can.  
  
Kurt has never been to a therapist before but he’s quickly learning some things about them. They don’t actually tell you anything. They don’t even ask the things you know they want to ask, or say the things normal people would be saying when you say shit like “I wish everyone else was okay with me being a prostitute because then I’d be okay with it and I could just stop whenever I wanted to without all these problems.”  
  
Therapists just nod along, asking strange questions that lead everywhere and nowhere. They hand you a shovel and they walk behind you with a wheelbarrow and expect you to just start digging through all the shit and make sense of it all.  
  
 _“Is prostitution wrong?”Dr. Shue shrugs like he doesn’t have an opinion on the subject even though he has to; everyone does. “Do you think it’s wrong?”  
  
Kurt sighs, wondering at the state of his life when he’s talking about the pros and cons of prostitution with Will Shuester of all people.  
  
“No. Not the bare mechanics at least, some of the choices I’ve made and why I made them yeah...but not the act itself.”  
  
“So then learn from those choices, change the way you think. It doesn’t mean you have to quit your job and rearrange your whole life. What’s the real problem Kurt?”  
  
“Everyone else has a problem with it, and I’m tired of hurting everyone. So what else am I supposed to do?”  
  
“Alright.” Dr. Shue pauses, turning his head slightly so that the daylight streaming through the windows makes his stiff hair look even stiffer. “Would it matter to you if someone told you they didn’t like your fashion sense? What would you say to me if I told you that your appearance makes my eyes feel like they’re being screamed at?”  
  
“I’d say you had no taste, and screw you.”  
  
“Okay, and if Blaine or someone else close to you said it?”  
  
“Blaine?” Kurt snorts, “he wouldn’t dare. I’d end him. Besides he has no room to talk. Given free rein he’d dress like a cross between Russel Brand and Andy Warholl.”  
  
“So you like the way you dress despite others opinions on it, no matter how close they are to you. Is that correct to assume?” Kurt nods and Dr. Shue shrugs and continues. “So if you truly enjoy being a prostitute and your boyfriend truly has accepted it and your loved ones now know then what’s the problem? Why are we meeting together Kurt?”  
  
Kurt has no response for this. Dr. Shue sighs and rubs his jaw.  
  
“I think we’ve made good progress today. Relax okay, you’re not in detention and the only one you owe anything to is yourself. I want you to think about that and why you might have a problem with your chosen profession, not why everyone else does.”_  
  
Kurt’s sessions with Dr. Shue are quite exhausting (the man himself is as complicated as anyone Kurt has ever met and he’s honestly not sure if Will shouldn’t be sitting in his seat). Kurt’s entire life is exhausting actually between therapy, calling home every day, a boyfriend and two jobs.  
  
One can hardly blame him for falling asleep during his weekly meeting with Sue, and Sue hasn’t exactly made it easy on him. Apparently there are new important clients that Sue won’t trust with anyone else but him, and almost all of his regulars are happy to work around his new restricted schedule- which means that Kurt might work less days but he feels as if he’s working more for Sue than he ever has before. Blaine’s ban on caffeine while he struggles to put some weight back on hasn’t helped matters; in fact it’s slowly killing Kurt.  
  
The only perk to it all is that clearly his fears over one day losing all of his clients to Jake were unfounded, quite to the contrary in fact. The way the other escort is sitting quietly seething right now, shooting Kurt daggers, indicates that because of this Jake now hates Kurt even more; Kurt honestly loves it. Okay he knows that he’s supposed to be recovering and feeling horrible for Jake and himself but there are some things that Kurt is never going to grow out of; his competitive streak and his ongoing rivalry with Jake is one of them.  
  
“Porcelain?” Kurt’s eyes shoot open as he pretends he was awake all along. He’s normally quite the heavy sleeper, but when Sue barks she could wake the dead. “Porcelain! Are you even listening?”  
  
“If I told you I was would you know I was lying?” Kurt yawns as Ethan and Mike snicker under their breath.  
  
“He was asleep,” Jake smirks as if he has got one over on Kurt. “Apparently Porcelain just can’t hack it anymore.”  
  
“When you have as many clients as me Sweetheart, you’ll be this tired too.” Kurt’s smile could sour sugar. “Like I always say, it’s hard work being this fabulous.”  
  
Jake’s mouth curls in disdain as he goes to retort, only for Sue to hold her hand up before he can go any further. Probably wise, else they could be there all day and unlike Jake _Kurt_ has someone to go home to.  
  
“That’s enough! As I was saying before you two decided to fly us all first class to the land of boring, I want you each to take one of these video cameras. Before you start whining, every Cheerio is updating their web page, not just you whiners. If we want to stay on top we need to outdo ourselves. We need to keep up with the competition. Figgen’s website is getting ten times our traffic now. Mere profile photos are no longer enough. Take these home and film just for a few minutes to give the clients a sneak preview. Think of it like a teaser trailer.”  
  
“What?” Kurt asks incredulously, looking around to see who is echoing his disbelief, only to find he’s on his own. “Suddenly we’re porn stars? Sue I don’t want video of myself frolicking on the Internet!”  
  
“The cameras have night vision technology,” Sue continues as if Kurt hasn’t said a word. “Turn the lights out when you do it, makes it look more sensual. You won’t be able to see much but the clients will get the picture. So those whiny babies who are scared of being recognized don’t have to soil themselves with fright.” Sue looks pointedly at him and Jake and Ethan snicker loudly.  
  
“Sue I-”  
  
“And this is not up for discussion. All of you take a camera and get the hell out of my office.”  
  
“If I wanted a sex video posted on the Internet then I would date Paris Hilton,” Kurt sighs in exasperation as the other escorts gather their things and obediently take a camera.  
  
“I don’t know what you’re whining about,” Sue mutters as Kurt passes her. “You’re one of the only escorts with a boyfriend. If I were you I’d take this opportunity to be inventive.” Kurt can’t help but laugh as she raises her eyebrows suggestively.  
  
He can’t actually suggest to his boyfriend that the make a sex tape for the Internet of course, but the thought is hot.  
  
********************************  
  
Kurt arrives back at his apartment grateful to have the next few days off for A&A Brides. The job is equally stressful in its own way but he finds it strangely refreshing, and it also doesn’t demand as much of his evenings. He’s looking forward to getting home at reasonable hours of the night, especially since Blaine has spent the last few nights in Chicago for a conference and should be back today.  
  
Kurt doesn’t know what has been more annoying, the fact that he’s been boyfriendless for four days, or the fact that Dr Shue keeps asking him to evaluate _why_ it has been noticeably rougher without Blaine. Why? Honestly Dr. Shue? Kurt simply loves every bit of Blaine, including his perfectly sized cock and what he and said cock get up to on the daily.  
  
Not exactly rocket science, but then Dr. Shue points out that Kurt has more sex than any one man has a right to on the daily. So is it possible that what Kurt misses isn’t just the sex? What is it that Blaine takes with him when he goes that Kurt can’t find in his day to day life as a sex worker?  
  
 _I want you to think about why you enjoy sex with Blaine so much and tell me what you think the next time we meet._  
  
Think about hot sex with his boyfriend? Okay then. Kurt is more than happy to do that. Whoever said therapy wasn’t fun obviously never had Will Shuester as a therapist.  
Kurt’s mood picks up further when he sees Blaine’s car parked outside his building; he’s home! As he hangs up his stuff inside the front closet he recognizes Blaine’s chicken scrawl scribbled on a post-it note.  
  
 _On the roof. Come join me.  
-B xoxoxo and tons of xxxxxx!!!_  
  
Kurt grins at it and rolls his eyes even though no one is there to see him. He puts a pot for tea (not as good as his coffee but no use upsetting Fuhrer Blaine his first night home) on the stove and makes a few of the calls he needs to make for A&A Brides. He hangs up frustrated with the receptionist at the fabric place after insisting she send someone around with whatever samples they _do_ have. He makes tea in a couple of mugs and rings the doorman to inform him of his whereabouts should the fabric guy actually get there within the hour.  
  
Grabbing his coat on the way out Kurt makes his way to the roof of his apartment building. Unsurprising considering the early November weather, they seem to have the space to themselves. On a summer day it’s quite the sun trap, but on a night in late fall it’s crisp and bare, but the view of the city is beautiful. Kurt spots Blaine perched close to the roofs edge, snuggled in a blanket on a rusty fold up lawn chair, scribbling what Kurt assumes is either work notes or music lyrics in a journal.  
  
He’s so absorbed that Kurt’s torn between rushing up and launching himself at him, which is pretty tempting considering he hasn’t seen Blaine for two days, or doing something more mischievous.  
  
Very quietly Kurt places the mugs on a nearby bench before sneaking up behind Blaine and swiftly covering his eyes with both of his hands.  
  
“Guess who?”  
  
“Jesus, Kurt!” Kurt almost collapses in a fit of giggles as Blaine jerks so hard he almost topples his seat over.  
  
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to be impish,” Kurt manages to say through his laughter as his hands slip away from Blaine’s eyes to the slope of his shoulders, and then to the top buttons of his jacket as he begins to undo them.  
  
“Impish? That’s _one_ word for you” Blaine mutters indignantly, but he’s unable to contain his own laughter. “Going for the buttons I see. God it’s only been four days but I haven’t been able to stop _wanting_ you. I swear I’m becoming as sex crazed as you!”  
  
“Is that your idea of an endearment? ” Kurt asks pointedly as he works at the buttons of Blaine’s shirt, which is no easy feat considering his jacket is still mostly on except for the hole Kurt has made big enough for his hand. “What makes you think I’m crazy for sex?”  
  
“Maybe the way you’re licking my neck and trying to dig through my clothes,” Blaine responds with a wry grin. Kurt giggles as Blaine sucks in a sharp breath when he finally reaches skin.  
  
He places one more kiss to the side of Blaine’s neck, trying his best to leave a mark, before abandoning his awkward stance behind the chair to come around and practically crawl into Blaine’s lap. They share a lazy kiss as Kurt works to free more of his skin. As Blaine goes to pull away for air, Kurt can’t resist taking his bottom lip between his teeth, pulling slightly until he absolutely has to let go. He drinks in the way that Blaine groans; he knows that Blaine loves it when he does that.  
  
Blaine practically swallows Kurt’s smirk, and then they’re kissing again and it’s anything but lazy. He’s not really thinking, doesn’t care that the chair is too small, that their limbs are sticking out awkwardly; Kurt’s just trying to get closer, to touch more of Blaine, but then they’re falling backward and the chair is toppling over. He lets out a high pitched shriek as they topple and he’s pretty sure Blaine hits his head as he lands on top of him. That doesn’t stop him laughing at Kurt and his indignant expression as he shoves the chair aside in irritation.  
  
“You know that wasn’t exactly funny. I almost had a heart attack.”  
  
“So I heard.” Blaine laughs, and when Kurt glowers at him and makes to get up Blaine grabs his hand and pulls him down again and Kurt readily complies, straddling his boyfriend and trying to keep the grin off his face. “I missed you.”  
  
“I missed you too,” Kurt replies with a smile. “How was the conference?” He asks with feigned interest, helping himself to the half-eaten pizza he notices by the toppled chair. It’s cold by now, but Kurt can’t bring himself to care at the moment because everything just feels good and he likes being a little spontaneous at times. Like making out with his boyfriend on the rooftop at night and eating greasy pizza and not worrying about his pores or anything else.  
  
“Dull, but I expected that. I managed to get away this afternoon and headed straight over here.”  
  
“Because you missed me?” Kurt asks playfully, fluttering his eyelashes.  
  
“Don’t milk it,” Blaine warns with laughter in his voice. Then he sits up and Kurt follows smoothly as Blaine opens his legs to allow him to turn and wriggle closer until he’s reclining between them. His heart warms as Blaine’s arms immediately find their way around his waist, and Kurt distinctly hears him inhale as he buries his face in his currently perfectly coiffed hair.  
  
And that’s how you know it’s love because Kurt doesn’t even want to bitch about it. Kurt lets Blaine dig his hands in and drag his nose down the length of his neck like he’s trying to tag his scent.  
  
“Dr. Shue said I should think about why I love having sex with you,” Kurt comments with a hitched breath as Blaine feathers kisses up and down his neck.  
  
“Did he?” Blaine’s voice is rough and it teases Kurt’s senses in more ways than he can even pin point as Blaine unbuttons his jacket. “So?”  
  
“Blaine... I wasn’t always ‘sex crazed’ as you put it. Before you met me I knew next to nothing about it actually. I was this huge romantic and all I wanted was this...” Kurt grasps the hand that Blaine has worked inside his jacket and presses it over his heart where it thuds. “To be close to someone, to have someone look at me the way you do. The first guy who wanted me, he touched me and it felt great and I guess... I guess I just thought what we have would come somewhere down the line. Only it never did, and I realize now that it’s not just the touch. It’s the people behind it. It’s you Blaine, it’s me. It’s us together.”  
  
Blaine’s hand curls in Kurt’s shirt as they kiss, neither of them caring about the awkward angle, the cold outside, or even the lingering taste of pizza. They’re happy. With the stress of both their families finding out, not to mention Kurt getting sick, it has been a long time since either of them were this content.  
  
It doesn’t help that they are busy people living in a busy city. When you spend most your time in a city like New York it’s easy to forget how huge it all is, and that whoever you are, you’re just a tiny speck in a city of millions. But then there are moments like this, completely insignificant and unremarkable, where they feel like they’re the only two people in the world.  
  
“Let’s just never leave here, Blaine” Kurt’s whispers as he admires the cityscape with awe for what must be the millionth time. Kurt isn’t fazed at all by thinking of them together years and years in the future. He’d meant what he said to Blaine that other night; they’re home to each other now.  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Blaine reassures, placing a brief kiss on Kurt’s shoulder.  
  
“I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders. From the Dardanelles to the mountains of Peru. But there’s no place like...New York!” Kurt trails off because he can’t remember the rest of the words. Blaine laughs.  
  
“The Dardanelles maybe but you’ve definitely never been to Peru.”  
  
“I’ve been to Machu Pichu!”  
  
“Yeah, the _cocktail bar_ ,” Blaine responds with an eye roll. “I knew buying you the Sweeney Todd soundtrack was a bad idea.”  
  
“You love my soulful melodic singing voice Blaine Anderson, do not front.”  
  
“Of course I do, when it’s not croaking the god awful prose of Sweeney Todd!”  
  
“God awful?!” Kurt gasps as he turns in Blaine’s arms. “I’ll give _you_ god awful!”  
  
Kurt’s not so carefully planned ambush is thwarted; as soon as he’s facing him Blaine grabs both of Kurt’s wrists, using them to pull him down against his lips as he kisses him, and it’s just that perfect side of passionate that never fails to slay Kurt. He moans into the kiss, ceasing his struggles so that Blaine lets go of his arms, effectively freeing Kurt enough so that he can clasp Blaine’s face, holding him just where he wants him. As the kiss continues, one of Blaine’s hands wanders from its place on Kurt’s hip under his jacket and shirt, running his fingers along the skin of Kurt’s back as the other comes to rest on his ass.  
  
Neither of them is in any hurry to take this further (which is lucky considering they’re on Kurt’s roof) and are very content to just enjoy the kiss, which Kurt can now admit is what he has missed most while they’ve been apart. In Kurt’s line of work, in fact in life in general, sex is easy to come by. There is something about the kiss from a lover that is infinitely more special and should be cherished.  
  
“I love you,” Kurt whispers breathily as they pull apart. “Speaking of Sweeney Todd, sometimes when we’re together, I’m so happy that I feel like we’re in a musical.”  
  
“Not such a dark musical I hope,” Blaine chuckles, cradling his cheek and staring lovingly back up at him.  
  
“Who us? The business man and the prostitute? Of course not! One with cheesy smiles and jazz hands where the protagonists fall in love despite adversity and live happily ever after. Pretty woman on ice and all that.” Kurt teases, leaning down to rub their noses playfully in an Eskimo kiss.  
  
He decides that in his next session with Dr. Shue they’ll have to dig through why he’s such a sap these days because good god he should make himself sick.  
  
“Um...excuse me...gentleman.”  
  
At the sound of the timid voice above them, both Blaine and Kurt pull apart like they’re a pair of schoolboys caught making out instead of doing their homework. Above them stands a woman Kurt has never seen before, stylish in that vintage sort of way that is decidedly prim yet appealing. She’s wearing gloves to guard against the evening chill, or maybe the purse that she clutches as she glances around with wide doe eyes as if she fears being attacked on the rooftop.  
  
“Hi there. How can we help you?” Kurt asks innocently as if the red haired woman hadn’t caught him in his boyfriends lap not a moment before.  
  
“Hello. I’m Emma Pillsbury and...ooh good you’re up...yes thank you. People really have no idea how dirty these rooftop patios can be.” The nervous woman prattles as Kurt and Blaine climb to their feet.  
  
“Are you here from Fabulous Fabrics?” Kurt asks, trying not to let any of his feelings on the woman’s odd nervousness show. She keeps glancing around like she expects snakes to slither out and attack her admittedly gorgeous heels. This woman knows how to work the vintage thing.  
  
“Um. Yes. I’m actually their receptionist. I answer the phones and I get yelled at consistently which isn’t very fun. Because I try really hard, you know, and I’m just the messenger and I don’t like being yelled at like it’s my fault that we can’t get french silk from Japan!”  
  
Blaine makes a noise that might be a cough but sounds more like a chuckle and Kurt nods slowly.  
“I can see how that might...pose a problem. Can I ask why they sent you? If you couldn’t get the samples I needed a call would have sufficed. You didn’t have to come yourself after hours and everything.”  
  
“I didn’t. I hope you don’t think this is too forward but I um...I’m getting counseling for some issues of mine...or at least I was until my therapist decided to refer me elsewhere...which really wasn’t fair because I know what I want and I wanted....” Emma tappers off, clutching desperately at her purse as she searches for words. Kurt and Blaine share a worried glance.  
  
“I’ve seen your name in Will’s date book so when you called at work today I knew that you were a patient of his. I know it’s completely unethical and a horrible invasion of privacy but I just thought since Will isn’t answering any of my calls...”  
  
Kurt is hopelessly lost. He hopes he isn’t the only one having a hard time keeping track of Miss Pillsbury’s thought process.  
  
“You mean this is about Dr. Shuester?”  
  
“Yes. Yes, Dr. Shuester. Could you, could you give him this for me?” The woman asks, extending an envelope. “Tell him Emma said to just read it and that I don’t need anything more than that. Thank you.”  
  
Emma turns and begins flouncing away as if she can’t flee the rooftop fast enough. Then as if she’s just remembered she turns and says, “oh and your samples. A few of our designers are working late tonight trying to get something together. Thad should be by later with something to show you.”  
And then just like that their strange visitor is gone.

 

********************

 

“Kurt we’re here to discuss your problems not my love life,” Dr. Shue reminds him for what has to be the fifth time that session.  
  
“Dr. Shue. Your girlfriend can’t corner me at my house and ask me to deliver a letter to you because you’ve pulled a disappearing act on her, without you telling me what it’s about. Since I’m the one she cornered I think I’m owed that much at least.”  
  
“Kurt it would be a highly inappropriate thing for me to-”  
  
“Somehow I don’t think that will sway you much,” Kurt interrupts Will’s protests with an airy wave.  
  
“Emma is not my girlfriend, she’s a patient. I’ll confirm that she and I previously engaged in something of a romantic relationship that-”  
  
“You did the nasty with a patient? Really Dr. Shue?”  
  
“Okay this discussion is done. Let’s move on to-”  
  
“But you love her right?”  
  
“Kurt that’s-”  
  
“Because if you don’t, and you just wanted a little nookie that’s a pretty jerk move, and I'm not sure _I’m_ the one who needs therapy. Just saying.”  
  
“No! Of course not...I care _deeply_ about Emma and...wait, didn’t I say this discussion was over?” Dr. Shue asks, wondering when he lost control over the situation.  
  
“Before we move on to me, can I just say Dr. Shue that you really ought to consider putting yourself and the poor girl out of your respective misery? Clearly you need someone to take you in hand, and I don’t even mean that sexually. It’s the hair and the vests and the... _everything_.” Kurt says gesturing to Dr. Shue and his tasteless ensemble.  
  
“Alright then and back to you. This actually ties neatly into our theme for today. Care. From what you’ve told me Kurt you’re popular with your clients because you show them care beyond what’s in your job description. You love Blaine and have expressed deep appreciation for the care he gives you, and you even managed to forgive your friend Brian because you recognized his need for care. Why do you think that is Kurt?”  
  
Kurt rolls his eyes.  
  
But Dr. Shuester has raised some interesting questions in his mind. He does have the odd tendency to care deeply about his clients. Victor and Alex alone are proof of that, and he is trying to care for Brian despite the issues between them isn’t he? He doesn’t know why that is. Maybe because it’s the decent thing to do, because when he was a kid he had to cook and clean and wash because if he didn’t no one else would, maybe because he doesn’t like to see hurting people, or maybe it’s as simple as Kurt Hummel is a nurturing spirit wrapped up in snark and fabulous fabrics.  
  
That’s why after he leaves A&A Brides the following day he goes to Brian's apartment. As far as he can possibly be sure Brian has been clean since the heroin overdose incident, and he seems to be handling whatever his traumatic night with knife play Jason did better these days. Kurt arrives at his apartment with a grocers bag in arms. Brian’s building is not as nice as Kurt’s but it’s clean and serviceable. There’s a baby crying in the neighboring apartment and he’s just wondering if he should knock again when the door opens a crack and Brian peeks out through it.  
  
“Hey, it’s me” Kurt greets cheerfully. “I’ve brought dinner.”  
  
Kurt is not the only one who is on the too thin side these days, so Kurt has taken it upon himself to rope Brian into eating good meals whenever possible. Brian returns the favor by forcing him to share whatever he makes so in a way they keep each other accountable.  
  
“Dinner delivered directly to my door, and by such a gorgeous messenger?” Brian chuckles as he opens the door wide for Kurt to enter. “You really are an angel Hummel.”  
  
“Don’t annoy me or I won’t feed you,” Kurt warns playfully, heading straight for the kitchen. Brian’s apartment is small but sparsely furnished so it looks a lot larger than it is. There’s next to no sitting space, one chair for the table and sparse few dishes and cooking utensils for Kurt to work with. It’s the apartment of a nomad, of a man without roots and no expectation for company to break up his solitary existence. The most lived in and colorful thing about the space are the numerous photographs that cover the walls.  
  
They are some of the most stunning shots Kurt has ever seen, all of them mounted in thin black frames and arranged with artistry and care. There are objects, landscapes and even a few animals, but no people. At least not in the way you’d expect. The people in Brian’s photographs are fragmented into hands, feet, and the curve of a smile. What few profile and full figure shots he has are blurred, the focus on the tip of a pen or the lady bug crawling across an arm rather than the person in them.  
  
Kurt asked him about it once, why he never takes pictures of people so you can see who they are and Brian had laughed and insisted that that was exactly what he did. That night Kurt sets to making dinner and regales Brian with tales of his therapy session of the day before.  
  
“He wants me to figure out why I care for people when I don’t have to,” Kurt says, stirring the pot of sauce he’s got simmering on the stove. “When did giving a damn about people become something that needs to be psycho analyzed?”  
  
“The obvious answer to that darling is that you’re either a saint or an masochists,” Brian answers from his perch on his kitchen counter.  
  
“Yes, I’m a saint, because making your living by taking it up the ass is the fastest way to get elected for saint hood.”  
  
“There’s a saint for everything,” Brian smirks. “I’m a good catholic boy I’d know.” He wraps his hands in a mockery of prayer and casts his eyes beseechingly towards the heavens. “Please St. Hummel, I ask you to bless this cock of which I am about to receive.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Kurt jabs him in the thigh with his elbow. “Shut up before you get struck be a lightning bolt. I refuse to die in your kitchen Holt, I have so much to live for.”  
  
“Ah yes, the boyfriend” Brian sneers, the smile fading from his face. “See, Kurt, you’ve a lovely boy that loves you and you’ll skip home to love him. Your life is positively a family special.”  
  
Brian says that with so much bitterness but oddly it isn’t aimed at him, Kurt doesn’t think he’s trying to make him feel bad about the good things in his life. It’s something else, something to do with all of the shadows behind his eyes.  
  
“Can I ask you something?” He asks and Brian shrugs. “You hate it here. You’re not doing that well either.” Brian has gotten almost gaunt and his skin looks haggard and unhealthy. There are giant bags beneath his eyes and his body is constantly thrumming and twitching so much that it sets Kurt’s teeth on edge. He narrows his eyes at him suspiciously, wondering if Brian is keeping his promise to lay off the drugs.  
“Why do you stay?”  
  
“For the same reason you do.” Brian barks a laugh leaning back against the wall, “because what else would I do, run for mayor?”  
  
“Come on. There’s got to be something else,” Kurt insists ignoring his attitude. “Did you go to college in England?”  
  
Brain shakes his head with a twisted smile and answers with a shrug, “Never had the money. Any money I made went to Billy and if he caught me keeping any extra… well I really got it then.”  
  
“Billy was...?” Kurt prompts, he half expects Brian to close up or to dismiss his inquires like he usually does but this time around the older man answers frankly.  
  
“He was our leader. Older guy, had a place of his own he opened up to kids who could pay him. Most of us were just boys but we were all we had so we stuck together. We weren’t all orphans, but all of us were runaways in some sense of the word. We were family to each other, and I’m sure you understand it was all sorts of dysfunctional but there you go, we all need family. When in doubt we’ll make one good or bad,” Brian reminisces as if he’s remarking on a summer holiday to the beach instead of a childhood the likes of which Kurt can’t even comprehend.  
  
“And this family? Did they make you do things?” He asks quietly. Brian shrugs.  
  
“Of course, Billy was the only one old enough to get a job and the jobs he got weren’t exactly on the legal side of things.” Brian chuckles. “He was an odd duck Billy. When I was young he kept me out of the rougher stuff: the drug dealing and the territory fights and shit like that. Tell you what though, he didn’t mind getting me blasted on whatever shit the older boys were selling. ‘Said he liked the look of me high.”  
  
Kurt’s stomach twists and he scowls, deciding he doesn’t like this Billy.  
  
“He never minded leaving me with some rich knob for a few hours either to make a bit of blunt; Billy never minded making blunt, no he did not,” Brian sneers at the memory of his old benefactor. “He had to have me first though, he always had to have us first.”  
  
“Are you telling me this man tried to sleep with you?” Kurt demands, his insides going cold and his hand trembling where it grips the stirring spoon.  
  
“There wasn’t any trying about it Angel, he did. I was eleven, I’d been at his place for a week, he said he had a job for me but he had to break me in first. ‘Called it training, said that once we’d had it rough, everything after that would be easy.” At the sound of the spoon clanking heavily to the floor Brian turns his head to stare questioningly at Kurt. He still appears rather disturbingly calm given the subject but his tone is changing with each word. Kurt watches him become more and more distant like he’s not even in the same room anymore. “You wouldn't like to think it but he was right. Compared to what I felt after he was through with me, every other time has been a breeze. It's just more of the same when you get down to it.”  
  
“Don’t say that!” Kurt grabs his arms and Brian blinks at him slowly. “He had no right to do that to you! Do you understand me. You were a child and he had no right!”  
  
“I made him a good profit and I didn’t mind snuggling up to a few strangers if it meant sleeping in a warm bed instead of an alleyway. We all won, Kurt. That’s how it works.”  
  
“That’s bullshit. You can’t tell me you wanted that, you can’t tell me a part of you doesn’t hate him!” Kurt insists, trying not to shake him. “It’s right there in your eyes! Brian you wouldn’t be here right now, an ocean away, if it weren’t true.”  
  
“You think I ran from Billy? Fuck Billy. He’s nothing.” Brian seethes. “I had it made with him compared to a lot of homeless teenagers. I had a family, I had a mostly sane pimp, but I got greedy. Sometimes you just get tired. You start thinking about everything else that’s out there, and all those people you pass in the street whose lives don’t look anything like yours, and you start wanting things that other people have, those normal people that you’ve never had the good fortune of being like.  
  
“I got greedy Kurt, got stupid, started thinking about going back to the orphanage, maybe finishing school and saving up for university, pipe dreams like that. Money was the key, so I started looking for my own clients. I’d save the money the gents would slip in my pocket after they were done fucking me behind the convenience store. It didn’t mean anything to me but a ticket out. Not a damn thing!”  
  
“I don’t… I don’t understand” Kurt chokes on the words. He’s trying, he’s trying to understand his friend and everything he has been through but hearing his tale is horrifying and terrifying in ways that go right to Kurt’s core and shake him.  
  
“Billy found out eventually,” Brian recounts, and his voice has gotten so dark that Kurt actually shivers. He doesn't know what he should do, what he should say. There isn't anything that can be said that will change it all. Brian doesn't really like to be touched outside of work and what good will a hug do against memories like that?  
  
“What did he do?” He asks, because painful as this is, he thinks maybe that will be enough, maybe it’s enough that someone finally cares to know.  
  
Brain shakes his head as if to clear it of fog and smiles, jarringly casual after the darkness of a moment before. “He threw a hissy and had the boys slap me around a bit. About what you’d expect right? I ditched him and the rest of the boys after that and tried to make a go at a normal life for a bit, but we can see how well that turned out.”  
  
Kurt knows without asking that the conversation is closed, Brian has withdrawn from it and his past as clearly as if he could actually shove it in a room and lock the door on it. Trembling he picks up the dropped spoon and crosses to the sink to wash it.  
  
“Fact is, Kurt, sometimes you get these demons in your past that just won't be shaken. You either get them or they get you.” Brian surprises him by placing a hand on his arm, eyes serious and compelling. “So there’s your answer Mr. Hummel, I stay because I can’t do anything else, and you care because you want more for yourself but won’t go out and get it. You need to fix something, namely yourself, but until you can find the strength to do that you’ll settle for fixing me. It's not such a bad deal for me, my stomach certainly thanks you for it.”  
  
Brian's stomach grumbles loudly in the heavy silence and the tension between them breaks. They both chuckle, finding humor even though there shouldn't be any.  
  
Brian’s life is sad, Kurt’s life feels sad too, and he doesn’t know which is honestly sadder.  
  
****************************  
  
“Blaine?” Kurt calls out as he arrives back home that night, knowing that Blaine is there waiting for him and eternally grateful for that. “Blaine? I’m home and I don’t know whether I’m more exhausted or horny so you’d better be naked and in bed waiting for me surrounded by our new pillows.” _That_ would make up for this horribly emotional night and Will Shuester’s stupid questions about care and why he does or doesn’t.  
  
“What’s this?” Blaine suddenly emerges from the bedroom holding Sue’s video camera-- and already filming if the flashing red light is any indication. “This isn’t the one I helped pick out for you last year, much more expensive.”  
  
“Oh it’s just one of Sue’s hair brain plans,” Kurt waves his hand flippantly as he walks past Blaine into the bedroom. “She wants us to film little sex snippets to post on the website.”  
  
“How very Pamela Anderson,” Blaine scoffs.  
  
“I said Paris Hilton, but that’s just as good.” Kurt sighs as he flops down on the bed. “When was it ever a good idea to have a sex tape posted on the Internet?”  
  
“You’re forgetting one important thing, Kurt.” Blaine joins Kurt on the bed, shutting the camera off for the moment. “You’re not famous.”  
  
“I could be famous,” Kurt replies begrudgingly.  
  
“Name _one_ famous prostitute!”  
  
“Mary Magdalene!” Kurt exclaims triumphantly.  
  
“I’m Jewish, that girl is nothing to me,” Blaine jokes.  
  
“You are not Jewish! You’re catholic so there. I win.”  
  
“If you’re planning on being famous I can plan on being Jewish so no, I win.” Blaine grins ridiculously. Kurt rather likes the game, rather likes not having to think about pain and eyes too old for their face, so he goes with it.  
  
“Fine. Heather Mills,” he suggests.  
  
“ I think that was before she was famous.”  
  
“That’s debatable,” Kurt responds wryly. “Okay then, what about Julia Roberts?”  
  
“No, she _played_ a prostitute,” Blaine says slowly as if talking to a child. “Julia Roberts is an actress. You want to know what you could do that I know you’d be famous for?”  
  
“What, put up with you? I’ve already booked a slot on Oprah.”  
  
“Just for that I take back the compliment I was about to give you on your fabulous singing voice.”  
  
“Too late, I already got it.” Kurt grins and nestles into Blaine’s side. “But we both know I could never be a famous singer.”  
  
“Your cynicism Kurt is one of the _many_ things I don’t get about you,” Blaine grumbles in mock irritation before claiming Kurt’s lips in a deep kiss.  
  
“I simply meant that if I went on the road we certainly couldn’t do this quite as often,” he replies between kisses. Blaine moans when Kurt reaches between them and presses against him, feeling how hard he already is.  
  
“Your libido is ridiculously high Kurt.”  
  
“Says the guy currently poking my leg.”  
  
Now it’s Blaine’s turn to yelp as Kurt pulls Blaine on top of him with lightning speed, opening his legs and pulling Blaine to lie between them as he presses his hardness up against him in need.  
  
“Jesus! Kurt...maybe I’m being stupid and should just shut up...”  
  
“Yeah you should.”  
  
“...but it’s just that I’ve never known you to be _this_ eager so soon...you know after... ” Blaine’s eyes widen as Kurt arches beneath him again, rubbing against him like some sort of cat against a scratching post.  
  
He sucks a mark onto Blaine’s neck, tongue darting out to lick his handiwork and moaning softly at the friction between their lower bodies. “I want to suck your cock. I want to swallow your come and then I want you to fuck me-”  
  
“Christ, Kurt,” Blaine groans, but he isn’t melting against Kurt like he normally does. He’s still trying to hold him still, trying to put space between their hips. “Stop. Baby stop, I’m trying to talk to you.”  
  
“Blaine!” Kurt lets himself fall back on the bed with frustration. “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think, I don’t want to do anything but be with you right now.”  
  
“Why?” Blaine blinks at him in surprise. Why is it so important? Why the sudden urgency?  
  
Because. Because everything hurts and there are some wounds that go too deep, but this, being with Blaine, it’s a beautiful thing and he needs to feel something lovely and pure right now.  
  
“Because,” Kurt responds in a gentler tone. “I’ve been working all week with strangers who don’t really care who I am or whether or not I actually get off. You on the other hand _always_ care, and that makes this different. I want what we have, want you, so badly it’s obscene. Now I want to get naked and let you get me off repeatedly, but if you’d rather have a chat about it then... ” Kurt’s rant is broken as Blaine reaches between them to cup him through his jeans and he gasps.  
  
He whines when Blaine suddenly climbs off of him, bringing the delicious friction to a halt. Kurt is appeased somewhat when Blaine strips off his t-shirt at the edge of the bed. Then he reaches across the bed for the video camera and Kurt can only arch a brow at him.  
  
“Care to make things more interesting?”  
  
Kurt may have just died and gone to heaven. He knows Blaine means it every time he reminds him that he’s not a blushing virgin anymore; but it’s hard to meld the guy reading Russian lit and holding doors open for little old ladies with the guy who pinned him to a tree in a public park and fucked him.  
  
“Always,” he grins back. Then he wonders if maybe Blaine feels like he has to be sexually adventurous because of what he does for a living. Maybe he worries if he isn’t that Kurt will get bored? The thought sours his mood a little.  
  
“What’s with the frown?” Blaine asks almost before the expression completes itself.  
  
“You want this right? You’re not doing this because you think _I_ want it or something? ‘Cause I wasn’t going to ask you to do it, Blaine. I don’t want to bring work into what we do here and I don’t expect stuff like this from you.”  
  
“Kurt, I offered didn’t I? Since I found it I’ve been thinking of how hot it would be filming you. It pretty much took over my mind; trust me those were all the thoughts up there.”  
  
Kurt nods, his unease subsiding as he waits eagerly for Blaine to set up the video camera, only to have Blaine pull a chair across the room and sit down on it. He watches him make himself comfortable as he turns the camera on once again.  
  
At Kurt’s questioning glance he says, “I said I was thinking about filming you. Indulge me”  
  
Kurt arches a brow again, but starts slowly stripping off his clothes nonetheless; he has never given Blaine a show before he realizes, and that is a crime because he has given them to more men than he can count. It’s odd, but the thought hits him that he doesn’t want to give anything to all of _them_ that he won’t or hasn’t already give to Blaine, because with Blaine it’s always different. Kurt always matters with Blaine. If Blaine wants a show, then he’s going to get one.  
  
“I never had you down as the voyeuristic type,” Kurt comments as he peels his jeans down his legs. He loves the way Blaine follows the movement, his eyes fixed on the camera but his whole body tense.  
  
“Me neither. But when we’re old and grey we should have something to remind us of how young and hot we were at one time right?”  
  
“You’ll forever be young and hot to me,” Kurt quips, grinning at the silly comment even as he gets fully naked. He props himself up against the pillows, planting his feet on the bed and spreading his legs wide. It’s nice knowing that he can cause Blaine to groan in desire before he has even done anything really.  
Keeping his eyes on his lovers Kurt runs his fingers slowly down his chest, scraping gently with his nails and pinching his nipples until they peak. His nipples have always been particularly sensitive, a fact that Blaine enjoys exploiting on occasion, and he moans a little as he stimulates them.  
  
It’s strange really that his mind should keep going back to Shuester’s silly themes of the day, but as he touches his body his hands travel to all of the places he loves being touched the most, which not coincidentally are also Blaine’s favorite places to touch. He thinks about the way their sex works, how it’s about giving, how it’s about _care_ and how great that makes him feel.  
  
He never has to ask Blaine for that kind of attention, it’s just given, sown in the fabric of everything they do. It’s normal in every sense of the word. Wholly unextraordinary-- except for the fact that it’s the missing ingredient in Kurt’s day to day life as an escort. Here in this room, even though Blaine watches and Kurt loves the way Blaine watches, Kurt has power; he has himself. Every touch is as much for himself as it is for Blaine and it makes everything that much more intense.  
  
Blaine continues filming, but Kurt can tell by the way he’s shifting uncomfortably that he is already getting to him, and Kurt reckons his jeans have got to feel excruciatingly tight at the moment. Blaine’s wriggling increases as Kurt’s hands skim down his torso once more until he’s lightly stroking his cock with one hand, placing the other against his mouth and parting his lips just a crack as his breath hitches. He slips the tips of his fingers inside, biting down gently as pleasure winds through his body. He sucks gently, closing his eyes and imagining Blaine’s cock in his mouth in place of his fingers.  
  
Is it wrong to try and make your boyfriend spontaneously combust? Maybe, maybe Kurt’s a horrible person but he doesn’t care and judging by the sounds Blaine can’t hold back, he’s pretty sure that he’s okay with his immanent death by combustion.  
  
By the time Kurt’s fingers reach for his hole, Blaine is grasping his own cock through his jeans. He hears him curse under his breath as he pushes one, then two fingers, inside of himself. Kurt shifts his position so that his legs are splayed even wider and he can get a better angle before slipping in a third.  
He gasps at the sudden fullness he feels, the burn of being stretched too quickly too fast without proper lubricant, but he kind of loves that so there might just be a smile on his face as he imagines the way Blaine fills him, imagines that it’s Blaine pushing in and out of him impatiently.  
  
“Oh,” Kurt groans as the pleasure continues to wind and he continues his fantasy. “That’s it…right there…. Blaine please…”  
  
“Fuck. Kurt” Kurt has barely opened his eyes before Blaine is on top of him.  
  
Their fingers tangle in each other’s as they both fumble to get Blaine’s fly undone and his jeans off.  
  
“I love you so fucking much,” Blaine whispers almost violently as he grips either side of Kurt’s face. Then he’s gone his face against Kurt’s chest as he licks a wet path all the way from Kurt’s neck to his crotch, paying special attention to the three inch scar that now runs along his abdomen. Kurt hates that scar, tiny and thin as it is, but Blaine isn’t like his clients. He doesn’t see it as an imperfection, just another part of Kurt and so it like every other part of Kurt will receive his attention and Kurt really fucking loves that about Blaine.  
  
“Love you,” Kurt groans, unable to stop himself from raising his hips, encouraging Blaine to take him into his mouth. Then Blaine does something he has never done with Kurt before. Grabbing hold of Kurt’s thighs, Blaine presses them up to his chest gently but insistently, silently instructing him to hold them up before bending back down and spreading his cheeks. Then he hesitantly runs his tongue up the crease in between until he reaches Kurt’s hole.  
  
Kurt’s eyes go wide and his brain protests-- though he’s not sure why because he really wants it and he couldn’t articulate any protests right now anyway. Not with the way he feels Blaine’s breath on him, his tongue circling his entrance and lapping gently before stabbing insistently inside.  
  
Kurt’s whole body jolts at the touch and then he’s not thinking about anything but that light impossibly perfect touch and the fact that it’s Blaine. He swears there’s a fire at the base of his spine he’s wound so tight and Blaine’s tongue just goes in and out and he’s making this noise deep and low like he really is about to combust on Kurt or something and Kurt just falls apart. “God baby, don’t stop!”  
  
As his orgasm builds he presses himself harder against Blaine, jolting again as Blaine’s fingers replace his tongue and he reaches up to fist Kurt’s cock for all it’s worth. Kurt bucks his hips once, twice and then he’s coming hard, screaming Blaine’s name and making his throat ache with rawness. Maybe he blacks out or something, all he knows is that one minute everything is too intense and the next he’s laying relaxed in a satiated puddle.  
  
“I’m an idiot. I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks and I can’t believe I waited. Never, never waiting again,” Blaine promises, his voice rough and breathy as he crawls back up the bed and indulges Kurt in a lazy kiss. Kurt can taste himself and it should be gross or weird or something but he’s moaning into the kiss and his heart is pounding with exhilaration.  
  
“Blaine Anderson rimming me on camera. Will wonders never cease?” Kurt teases, holding Blaine close. Pressed flush against each other Kurt’s well aware that his boy has yet to find any release of his own but there is no rush, and that’s just one more thing about it all that he loves. Blaine rolls over until they’re lying on their sides, facing each other.  
  
“So what’s it to be?” He asks mysteriously, nodding towards the camcorder. “Are we…..David and Jonathan? Achilles and Patroclus? Alexander and Hephaestion? George Boleyn and Sir Francis Weston? Oscar Wilde and Lord Alfred Douglas?”  
  
“What’s this, Blaine’s guide to homosexual couples throughout history?” Kurt laughs, running his fingers through Blaine’s hair as he places a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Now here’s a crazy idea; how about, I be Kurt, and you be Blaine? No George Boleyn, no Oscar Wilde and certainly no Porcelain. Just….us. I really like us.”  
  
“Just us,” Blaine repeats with a loving smile, his eyes never leaving Kurt’s as he fumbles in the bedside drawer with one hand for the lube. The room is dimly lit; the only light coming from the reading lamp over on Kurt’s desk, but the way it hits him, illuminating his skin in all the right places, almost bronzing its olive tones….it’s enough to take Kurt’s breath away.  
  
“Got it!” Blaine exclaims victoriously when he finally lays his hand on the tube. “Slippery little guy, but I guess that’s the point. Non slippery lube would be like…I don’t know, dry water or cold fire.”  
  
His brow creases in confusion as Kurt laughs softly to himself; oh Blaine.  
  
“What is it?”  
  
“Nothing,” Kurt shrugs, shaking his head. “You’re just so….perfect.”  
  
“Only because I’ve got you,” Blaine says with all the seriousness Kurt knows he feels. Good lord, what has happened to him? Blaine has got him misty eyed and melting at some of the most ridiculously sappy things…. Oh well.  
  
They share a tender kiss, Blaine’s unquenched need and Kurt’s quickly resurfacing need momentarily forgotten because they’re perfect together, absolutely perfect.  
  
“I’m going to do it you know. Quit.” Kurt whispers between them and Blaine strokes his hair.  
  
“Why?” He asks and the question sort of surprises Kurt but it also doesn’t in a strange way. There are so many reasons why... because he doesn't want to wake up one day with eyes too old for his face.  
  
“Because it’s a lot uglier than I thought it was… because it’s not what I really wanted then and I know it’s not what I want now,” he replies with surprising assurance. It’s the truth, but it’s also very true that he’s still scared, he’s still unsure, and he’s not ready yet.  
  
“Okay, but Kurt just don’t...don’t change things for me. You want to know when I realized I really could be okay with all of this?” Blaine asks, continuing his stroking. “I love that look you’re giving me right there. It terrifies me, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything because even when you’ve been gone all day, even if you’ve been with a hundred guys before me I know that I’m the only person in the world who you look at like _that_.”  
  
“It’s not about you Blaine,” Kurt assures him matter of factly. “Well it is and it isn’t. It’s mostly about me. There were things I wanted for myself before escorting and I think I want those back. It’s time I got them…I’m just...I need more time.”  
  
Blaine nods, leaning in to kiss Kurt tenderly again and Kurt feels completely relaxed, at peace with everything. He loves this feeling.  
  
“As for the look, that’s love. I belong to you, and you belong to me.” Kurt hugs him tightly. “Of course that means you also have to keep me in an endless supply of orgasms. Life's a bitch sometimes.”  
  
“Baby, _that_ is so not one of our issues,” Blaine practically growls into his ear, and they press their mouths together messy and eager. Kurt’s legs fall apart as Blaine’s hand urges his thighs open and two lubed fingers find his still sensitive entrance. The tongue and finger fucking he gave Kurt only a few minutes previous means that he can easily slip his fingers inside, coating Kurt’s passage liberally before quickly withdrawing.  
  
There’s something very intimate about having Blaine’s fingers inside him, mainly because only a handful of Kurt’s clients are ever interested in whether or not Kurt’s ready or not, and mostly because it’s the same fingers that hold him when he sleeps, that trace away the worry lines on his forehead and that ran through his hair to comfort him when he was sick and in pain. It’s the touch of a lover, not just a sexual partner. It’s care.  
  
Though Kurt loves having Blaine inside him and wants that to happen sooner rather than later he can’t resist pushing him backwards so that he can take his cock in his mouth; Kurt just loves that keening noise Blaine makes when his lips are around him.  
  
“Oh shit,” Blaine’s hands massage Kurt’s scalp as he thrusts up into his mouth. He relaxes his throat with all the expertise of…well a hooker, and Blaine groans deeply before pulling him up by his hair. “Stop...god stop. Too close.”  
  
Kurt smirks as he quickly lubes Blaine up. He happens to glance up momentarily and catches sight of the camera still recording them. They’d both completely forgotten it was there. He jumps off the bed, ignoring Blaine’s groan of protest as he goes and grabs the camera to move it into a more optimum position, checking the screen to make sure it’s going to catch the money shot.  
  
They might as well have the best possible tape to remember this day by for someday when they’re ninety. He hopes when they’re ninety and wrinkled he’ll still be able to rope Blaine into watching this with him. Who is he kidding, he knows Blaine Anderson and what gets him. All little wrinkled Kurt will have to do is flutter his lashes. Kurt laughs at himself, at Blaine, at how ridiculous they both can be about each other.  
  
Then he climbs back on the bed, encouraging Blaine to lay flat with his feet flat on the mattress so that he can straddle his waist, Blaine’s hands coming to rest on his hips of their own violation. As Kurt takes hold of Blaine’s erection and presses it against his entrance, he nods to the camcorder and Blaine’s eyes follow and he flushes. They’re both thinking the same thing. The recording is going to catch _everything_ , including the moment Blaine penetrates him and the look on both their faces as Kurt takes him inch by inch. He has never been so aroused by a thought before.  
  
“God you feel so good,” Blaine groans as Kurt fully seats himself and Kurt shifts in his lap, searching for the right angle.  
  
“You don’t feel bad yourself,” he teases a little breathlessly leaning down for a brief kiss before Blaine urges him to move, guiding Kurt on his cock as he rotates his hips. Kurt allows Blaine to determine the pace, quickly settling into slow, languid movement, rising up and down on his thighs to add that extra stimulation. This position has many awesome advantages Kurt decides as Blaine leans forward to take one nipple between his teeth, biting gently just the way he knows drives his boyfriend wild.  
  
He looks up at Kurt as his lover’s hands tangle in his hair, and Kurt sees so much love and lust there in his eyes that it’s almost enough to make him come on the spot.  
  
He suddenly wants to be inside Blaine so bad it hurts, and he doesn’t know where the desire came from because he has generally been a bottom for years now. It’s just the nature of the game. Most people pay to fuck him, not be fucked by him. But he wants to feel Blaine wrapped around him, pressing all around him until there’s no separating them.  
  
Blaine moves inside of him, watching Kurt with intensity and Kurt stares back at him. He slips two fingers into his mouth and leans back, his questing fingers searching blindly until he finds the entrance to Blaine’s body. He manages to maneuver himself enough that he can press into Blaine and wow...just wow. Blaine’s tight and hot and he accepts Kurt with no questions asked and the pair of them are groaning simultaneously as the extra contact makes Blaine thrust up almost violently, hitting Kurt’s prostate with enough force to make his entire body spasm.  
  
Kurt bite’s his lip and slumps forward bracing himself on Blaine’s shoulder as he raises his hips and drops back down with a drawn out moan.  
  
“Shit! Shit,Kurt” Blaine’s hands dig into his hips as he pulls Kurt down onto his cock and Kurt swears he has never felt anything this good.  
  
“Yesohyesplease!” He moans, fucking himself with abandon. “Blaine fuck me please!”  
  
The red light that indicates the camera is recording is ever present in the dimly lit room but that doesn’t distract them. The moans and pants of pleasure that fill the room are real and not put on or exaggerated in the slightest. There is a marked difference between what Kurt does as an escort and what Kurt is doing now. Despite the presence of the camera there is nothing here for show, no touch that does not illicit response, and no thought to hold back.  
  
It’s here with Blaine where the tiny whispers of real lust are so much more erotic than the overzealous cries he’s learned to perfect in a performance for a client. It’s here where he can fly to pieces, groaning and begging, and there’s never a thought of shame-- that there is the true difference. Kurt does not have to perform for Blaine.  
  
This is them, it’s raw and it’s real. It alternates between load and quiet and it’s perfect in either. Kurt can hear Blaine chanting his names continually under his breath; there’s something else Kurt never hears while escorting, his names. Not one of the ones Sue chose for him either. Blaine has many names for him, names born of love and dripping in honey that slip off his tongue in the heat of passion and Kurt can hear every last one of them.  
  
“Come on sweetheart. Fuck, Kurt!” That, that there is the best one of them all.  
  
Kurt gasps as Blaine’s cock continually hits his sweet spot, each time more pleasurable than the previous, as they gradually lose control. Kurt clenches his internal muscles, wanting to feel Blaine deeper, wanting desperately to come more. It’s warring desires that rage through him and Blaine lets out a guttural groan as the tension inside coals too tightly. He removes his hands from Kurt’s waist for the first time since he entered him to fist his lovers weeping cock. It takes only three or four knowing tugs for Kurt to come hard, crying Blaine’s name again as he feels his hot come spill inside him only seconds later, calling out in ecstasy.  
  
As Kurt sags on top of Blaine he thinks that he’ll never be able to hear the phrase ‘ride of a lifetime’ without leering like an idiot, and he really really could just spend the rest of forever perched on Blaine Anderson’s lap with his cock buried inside him.  
  
“Wow,” he gasps as he begins to regain some of his composure. Kurt bends over to claim a satiated kiss from Blaine’s swollen lips, placing his palms on either side of his head and purposefully ensuring that Blaine stays inside him, at least for the time being. He’s oversensitive but he got over being a wimp about that years ago. “I vote we do this again in five minutes.”  
  
“You’re insatiable Kurt.” Blaine’s groan is almost nonsensical and very very exhausted and Kurt giggles.  
  
“Only because I’ve got you.” He mirrors his words of earlier and bends to kiss Blaine again. “I can wait for you. You waited for me.”  
  
And so Kurt comes to the cusp of a realization. It’s a fairly simple one, but sometimes the simplest things hold the most gravity. Kurt enjoys the feeling of being cared for, whether it be intimate or personal, whether it comes from Blaine or it comes from himself. He has been simultaneously searching for and hiding from such words and touches as these for most of his adult life.  
  
Perhaps this new Kurt, not the fallen angel, not the celebrated escort who calls himself Porcelain, but the Kurt Hummel who is nothing but a man who is loved and is remembering what it really feels like to love himself; perhaps whatever choice _he_ makes will turn out for the better.  
  
Kurt is confident that it will, because whatever he decides this time he’ll be doing it for himself and not _against_. That’s the thing that hurts him most about his friend Brian, not how hurt he is, not what he has been through but how much he fights against himself and adds to his wounds. He doesn’t deserve that, deserves so much better; they both do. Unfortunately Kurt can’t live for Brian, but he can live for himself.  
He intends to.  
  
You should know that there is one last hill to climb. That whatever force that drives the negative energies of life- be it true evil, or natures natural bend toward calamity- simply can’t let Kurt go without a fight. Kurt could call Sue up and quit right now and go on to live a whole and happy life with no more consequences, but it’s never that simple.  
  
Kurt is not ready to take the plunge; he is nearly there but as of yet remains too afraid to take the risk. In some ways Blaine has enabled this. That’s the ironic bite of life. The hardest choices never come with a ‘right’ path that is without its own cost. Kurt needed Blaine’s acceptance and Blaine has given it, but Blaine’s acceptance also allows him time. Too much time perhaps, because Kurt could spend another year hovering on the edge not quite ready to jump.  
  
Kurt’s time is an illusion. This monster that eats at him will not simply let him slip away; it will try and swallow him whole in one ferocious gulp. Brian’s words to Kurt, as they so often have before, will prove true. Sometimes your past is too much to shake. There are pieces of Kurt’s past, dangerous pieces that have come unhinged and have been left swinging, that are about to drop. Kurt will either fall with them into ruin or fly.


	20. The ending, not unbroken.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's past comes to bite him. Kurt bites back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains an attempt at non con and graphic imagery that may be triggers. Please read with caution. Also I would like to say again that I did take some artistic liberty with the character of David Karofsky so heed the warnings and do not expect all of his character attributes from canon.

**Masochism**  
 _\- noun  
  
1\. Psychiatry. The condition in which sexual gratification depends on suffering, physical pain, and humiliation.  
  
2\. Gratification gained from pain, deprivation, degradation, etc., inflicted or imposed on oneself, either as a result of one's own actions or the actions of others, esp. the tendency to seek this form of gratification.  
  
 **3\. The act of turning one's destructive tendencies inward or upon oneself.**  
  
4\. The tendency to find pleasure in self-denial, submissiveness, etc._  
  
This word of the day was brought to you by Kurt Hummel via Dr. Shue.  
  
 _“I am not a masochist.” Kurt insists, “I don’t get off on the shit fest that my life has been lately. It doesn’t thrill me to have people bursting into tears over me at every turn.”  
  
“Kurt there are many ways a person can practice masochism besides the sexual. It’s a surprisingly common mental state. It’s not a disease or an illness, in fact it comes and goes in all of our lives,” Dr. Shue says in that concerned way of his that somehow seems to be both heart felt and patronizing. “We all experience a masochist streak or two. All I want you to do is consider your life and pin point any decisions or actions of yours that might have been influenced by the desire to punish yourself. If you can’t think of any great, then we’ll move on. But I think you’ll find a few, and when you do we’ll move on from there.”_  
  
*******************************  
  
Kurt isn’t so sure anymore that his sessions with Dr. Shue are helping him. Honestly masochism, _that’s_ what Shue thinks his problem is? It’s ridiculous. Kurt isn’t crazy, he doesn’t go out of his way to hurt himself. He’s not cutting, drinking himself to death or anything remotely close to ‘turning on himself’. That’s what Shue is getting at isn’t it, example number three under the definition of masochism?  
  
Okay so maybe those are extremes and maybe he gets what Dr. Shue means that everyone gets a little lost sometimes and displays these tendencies. The guy drinking himself under the table to forget his divorce, or the girl eating an entire tub of B&J because that guy she’s liked forever asked her best friend out. Everyone punishes themselves every now and again, so Kurt can admit that he has probably done so once or twice.  
  
Like now for instance, he could literally kick himself.  
  
Blaine has an off day today and Kurt has achieved some sort of miracle and, sans his weekly meeting, managed to clear his schedule for the day (this is truly an amazing feat and you should know that Sue is not pleased). He was supposed to be meeting Kurt outside half an hour ago.  
  
His plans to rush away after a quick meeting are thwarted. Unlike most weeks Sue held the meeting at a hotel since she is getting her entire house redecorated. Since they’re meeting at the hotel Sue split the meetings into two groups, gals and boys instead of a bunch of miniatures. It’s the first time he and Brian have been in the same meeting together since his fall from Sue’s graces and it couldn’t be more evident that Sue has it out for him.  
  
To be fair, Brian doesn’t look well and either doesn’t have the sense to act as if he has intention to pull it together or he simply doesn’t care if she fires him or not. His numbers are dismally low, lower than Ethan’s even, and despite his promise not to Kurt is pretty sure just by looking at him that Brian has used again.  
  
Kurt thinks Sue dragged the men’s meeting on forever just to spite them, she seems angrier than usual over his backing off of work, and Brian’s poor performance, and of course today would be the day it thunderstorms.  
  
Being Sue, this is one of the most upmarket hotels in all of New York, so much so that most of Kurt’s clients can’t even afford it. This also means that they don’t take a kind view to people loitering in the hall way, which means Kurt has been anxiously waiting inside for the meeting to end knowing that Blaine is stuck outside being drenched.  
  
It’s not his fault, and on one level he knows that even if Blaine is upset he won’t take it out on Kurt but that doesn’t stop Kurt’s mind from twisting things.  
  
 _If Blaine weren’t dating you he definitely wouldn’t be waiting in the rain risking pneumonia just so he can wait for you to hand over all the money you’ve made this week letting other men fuck you. He’s probably ecstatic right now._  
  
Maybe Kurt does have a tendency to turn on himself. He tries to remind himself that he could be a stock broker and Blaine would still wait out in the rain for him because Blaine _loves_ him, and not to be an idiot. Still he heaves a sigh of relief when it’s finally over.  
  
Though he is in something of a hurry he waits when Brian calls his name.  
  
“I do have to go, Blaine’s waiting on me” he apologizes after a brief catch up and Brian shrugs.  
  
“I suppose I have to let you run along then.”  
  
“Do you want me to stop by tonight?” Surprisingly Brian looks a little apprehensive, quickly shaking his head in denial.  
  
“No that’s alright. I’ve got something to do tonight.”  
  
“A client?” Kurt asks searching his friend’s eyes. His numbers have made it look like he’s barely taking clients, and something about his uncharacteristic nervousness sets him off.  
  
“Yeah, a client.” Brian slaps a hand on his shoulder and flashes his trademark grin. “Run along, darling. What are you wasting time here for? You’ve a young gorgeous man waiting on you; that doesn’t last forever.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.” Kurt smiles. “But I figure if I play my cards right one day I’ll have an old gorgeous man waiting on me.”  
  
“I’ll light a candle for you, pray to the saints.” Brian laughs and Kurt smirks.  
  
“Cause you’re so good at that.” He smiles at his friend as Brian claps him on the shoulder again and turns to leave but Kurt doesn’t want to let him go quite yet. He grabs his arm and when Brian turns to glance at him he asks, “You’ll call me right? If you need anything…”  
  
Brian grins and pats his arm, “Go on Kurt.”  
  
He manages to avoid contact with anyone else as he runs down the stairs, almost knocking a very disgruntled looking guest over in the process and hoping that Blaine isn’t too pissed off. As he reaches the reception Kurt can vaguely make him out through the steamed up glass, looking every bit the drowned rat as he’d expected and talking to….Jake?  
  
What the hell is Jake doing with _his_ boyfriend? Anyone else and Kurt’s first impression would be that it was something perfectly innocent, but not when it’s Jake, that crusty skank whore.  
  
Kurt and Jake tend to bring out the bitchy preteen girl in each other.  
  
Blaine’s eyes look away from Jake as Kurt emerges from the hotel. He smiles warmly in greeting before he returns his concentration to Jake looking fascinated by whatever the blond is prattling about. This makes Kurt seethe internally and he honestly doesn’t know which one of the two men he wants to bitch at first, but since Blaine looks kind of pathetic all soaked and wrinkled as he is, he decides on Jake.  
  
Jake turns at the sound of Kurt’s boots slapping wetly on the pavement, his face dropping when he sees who is approaching them. Kurt offers him a smile, knowing full well how smug and sarcastic it looks. Striding past him with one goal in mind Kurt hooks one hand around Blaine’s neck and pulls him into a deep kiss that lasts several seconds. Blaine’s eyes widen in shock at the apparently unprovoked outburst, but after only a moment returns the kiss with vigor.  
  
“Hey,” he greets Kurt breathily when air becomes necessary and they absolutely have to pull away.  
  
“Hi.” Kurt smiles smugly in response, giving Blaine a much more chaste peck. He turns to Jake and asks with an arched brow. “Have you met my boyfriend?”  
  
Jake’s eyes widen in realization then narrow in anger, his lips drawn tight in a thin line. He exhales sharply through his nose before he turns on his heels, slipping slightly on the wet ground as he walks away, fury and embarrassment practically exuding off him.  
  
“What was that all about?” Blaine asks, having to almost shout to be heard over the sound of thunder in the distance and the rain as it pours harder.  
  
“That was Jake, only the spawn of Satan,” Kurt shouts back.  
  
“ _That’s_ Jake?!” Blaine repeats incredulously as Kurt nods, then lowers the volume of his voice as if everyone around them might be listening in. “He didn’t seem so bad.”  
  
“Seriously, Blaine?! The guy was hitting on you.”  
  
“Come on Kurt. I know you don’t like the guy, but just because he was talking to me doesn’t mean he was coming on to me!”  
  
“Let me guess. First he asked you the time, then he complimented your shoes?”  
  
“How did you...”  
  
“Jake’s highly uncreative. The time is the ice breaker, and the shoes are his little way of speculating on the size of your dick. He’s not very clever,” Kurt replies smugly as Blaine flushes. So maybe his reaction was a little juvenile but it certainly wasn’t unprovoked, and yeah maybe Kurt enjoyed sending Jake scurrying back to his hole with his tail between his legs.  
  
“In that case I’m surprised you didn’t just spear him with your umbrella,” Blaine remarks dryly, then his brow furrows. “In fact I’m surprised you’re not carrying an umbrella. Kurt, your hair.”  
  
Blaine snaps Kurt back to reality in the best way he knows how. “Oh _shit!_ ” Kurt curses when he realizes his previously perfectly styled hair is now hanging around his face like limp spaghetti. Kurt shakes his head like a wet dog to emphasize his point and stop the water from streaming into his eyes and stinging. Owe. Maybe he does use a little too much hair product.  
  
“God you really did march out here to protect my virtue didn’t you,” Blaine chuckles, taking Kurt’s hand and pulling him down the street in the opposite direction. “The subway’s going to be rammed because of the weather, and we’re already soaked through so we might as well walk.”  
  
“Have you got a bit of a masochistic streak that I don’t know about?” Kurt asks, making no effort to move. “This jacket is expensive and I’ll catch a cold!”  
  
“That’s okay, I liked making a fuss over you after your surgery and if you get sick then I can do it again, not to mention it’s handy having you bed bound,” Blaine replies with a grin and Kurt can’t help warming at seeing it.  
  
“You’re crazy,” Kurt grumbles as he begrudgingly follows Blaine down the street, well, actually it’s still a little closer to dragged down the street. His clothes are going to be so wrinkled he can’t even think about it without tearing up a little and he’s sure he looks gross, but then again, holding Blaine’s hand in the rain is kind of nice too. It almost makes up for it.  
  
“I love you too,” Blaine shoots back with a cheeky grin, irritatingly happy considering the weather. So much for Kurt’s fears. “You know what else I love? The way you got all territorial when you saw Jake talking to me. Ironic don’t you think considering what you do for a living.”  
  
“I was not territorial!” Kurt protests weakly, unable to stop from giggling as Blaine swings their arms like they’re two little school girls, completely ignoring the looks that some people are giving them.  
  
“Kurt, you so were! The only way you could have been _more_ territorial is if you’d came out and pissed in a big circle around me!”  
  
“That would never happen. Do you know how seriously unhygienic that would be?” Kurt grumbles as Blaine pulls him quickly out of the way of a youth on a bike, effectively slamming them against the wall of a building.  
  
“No more than peeing outside normally is I should think,” Blaine replies with a shrug.  
  
“You talk as if you think peeing outside is something I do,” Kurt snaps still in a pissy mood and Blaine throws back his head and laughs.  
  
“Well I’m not complaining. In fact the whole thing was really sexy” he murmurs as he leans in for a brief kiss. Kurt’s grumpiness vanishes as he melts into the softness of Blaine’s lips.  
“So does this mean I’m now the hottest of this hot couple?”  
  
“In your dreams.” Kurt shoves him playfully away and they continue their walk home. After a few blocks Blaine’s hand leaves his and instead wraps around his waist, pulling Kurt closer to share body heat. Walking in the heavy rain both sucks and is weirdly perfect with Blaine beside him.  
  
After a brief discussion they decide to head for Blaine’s place; it isn’t as warm as Kurt’s and the shower is a lot less luxurious, but it’s also considerably closer to the hotel and it’s not like Kurt hasn’t got plenty of his own stuff there. Since they got back together it seems like Kurt has rapidly been spreading his stuff around Blaine’s apartment and Blaine has done the same at Kurt’s. In fact now whenever Kurt goes to look for something there’s only a 50% chance that it’s in the same building as he’s in at any given time.  
  
They may have to do something about that one of these days, but there’s no rush. Kurt figures it will happen naturally. Whoever finishes their lease first or something like that.  
  
“Have you had anything to eat?” Kurt asks once they’ve made it inside, immediately heading for the kitchen to see how they’re doing on groceries in this apartment. Kurt begins stripping out of his wet clothes as he waits for an answer.  
  
“I thought we could take a shower first.” Kurt turns around to see Blaine leaning against the kitchen door, a predatory glint in his eyes as he practically molests Kurt with them.  
  
“But I’m starving!” Kurt whines, clutching a box of spinach ravioli to his chest protectively. He actually is really hungry which figures, considering Kurt used to have a problem getting in two good meals a day. Truth be told he’s not adverse to a shower with Blaine (he’s not dead after all) but he’s still a little irritated because of the whole Jake thing. So Blaine can just sort of work for it a little.  
  
“This way we work up more of an appetite,” Blaine points out with feigned nonchalance as he slowly walks over to Kurt. Kurt feels like he’s being stalked and he sort of loves it. “Besides, how do you expect me to stand here and watch you eat when you’re dripping wet and almost naked?”  
  
“That does sound like a problem and I really wish you the best of luck with it, but your shower is tiny,” Kurt says with his nose in the air as Blaine manages to pry the box of pasta out of his death grip. Kurt’s indignant protests are lost in his throat as Blaine reaches behind him and grabs his ass cheeks with both hands.  
  
“Then we’ll have to save space by pressing up against each other,” he whispers enticingly in Kurt’s ear, pulling him flush against his front so that he can feel his already hardening cock.  
  
“Well...never mind the pasta then!” Kurt relents with a grin, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s neck and slamming their mouths together as Blaine’s hands on his backside urge him to jump up and snake his legs around his waist. Now it should be noted that this is a little more ridiculous than sexy outside of the movies, seeing as Kurt does have a few inches on Blaine and they’re both slippery. Both men are surprisingly strong despite their leaner frames but hoisting a grown man up is not anything close to lifting feathers. Quite a few times he has to hoist Kurt up higher when he starts slipping, and with the amount of rain water on the floor it’s a miracle that they don’t topple over and break a few bones.  
  
Somehow though, through all the laughing, the stumbling and the kissing, Blaine manages to get them both to the bathroom with minimal bumps and bruises. He puts Kurt down so he can kick off his boxers and Kurt pulls frantically at Blaine’s clothes, leaving them in a wet pile on the already slippery floor.  
  
Kurt’s eyes roam greedily over Blaine’s body as he turns on the water before pulling back the curtain and inviting Kurt inside; he goes eagerly.  
  
Blaine makes no pretense about how this going to be between them as he fists Kurt’s cock roughly, hard and fast.  
  
“Lift me up!” Kurt instructs, wrapping his legs around Blaine’s waist once again. This adventurous little maneuver was doomed to fail before it even started; it’s difficult to pull off at the best of times, never mind without warning. Trying it in the shower is a really bad idea, indicated by the way Blaine slips, banging Kurt’s back and then his skull against the wall and causing him to yelp in both shock and pain.  
  
“Shit! Sorry. I’m Sorry Kurt,” Blaine apologizes immediately, putting Kurt back down on the shower floor. But his worry appeases when Kurt laughs, shaking water out of his eyes. Their kisses from earlier resume, Kurt holding Blaine flush against himself as he continues along his jaw and onto his neck. Blaine’s breaths become harsh and disjointed as Kurt’s fingers creep up his thigh and towards his cock. He ignores his neglected flesh completely and instead explores further behind until he reaches his hole.  
  
Kurt watches his face cautiously as he rubs Blaine’s entrance enticingly before gently slipping one finger inside, just a centimeter past the tight ring of muscles. He really wants to be inside Blaine, wants to feel him this way, and wants to hear the sounds he’ll make. So much so that his belly actually cramps with need. But it’s not something they’ve talked about and sure, Blaine lets him touch like this but there’s a big difference between someone’s finger and someone’s cock inside you. Honestly Kurt likes to bottom so it’s not really an issue.  
  
Just a wish.  
  
After a moment Blaine starts to shift slightly, encouraging Kurt to probe deeper. “More” he whimpers almost non-audibly, his eyes closed as he leans against Kurt.  
  
Kurt strokes Blaine’s wet hair. It’s strange that they should both feel so vulnerable right now, but it’s not a bad feeling. He’s honestly a bit in awe at how open Blaine is, doing nothing to hide the tremor going through his body. So Kurt doesn’t bother to hide the need in his eyes. Maybe he’ll ask someday.  
  
“God I love you Blaine.”  
  
“Love you too,” Blaine gasps, just as Kurt’s questing fingers locate his prostrate. “Oh fuck!”  
  
“Shall we?” Kurt chuckles as he withdraws his fingers, kissing Blaine briefly to stifle his moan of frustration. “Pick me up again.”  
  
“Let’s not try that a second time, at least not in the shower. Don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“Then I guess you’re just going to have to take me from behind,” Kurt whispers with feigned nonchalance, causing Blaine to groan out loud. Kurt turns around, planting the palms of his hands on the tiles, presenting himself for Blaine’s pleasure, both their pleasure really.  
  
In lieu of any form of lubricant, Blaine grabs a bottle of shampoo from the shower rack and pours a liberal amount onto his palm. He uses his knee to nudge Kurt’s legs further apart before bringing one slick finger against his entrance.  
  
“I wish I could take a picture of you like this. ‘So god damn beautiful, Kurt,” Blaine sighs as he kisses Kurt’s neck. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”  
  
“Some idea” Kurt answers fondly, smiling as Blaine nuzzles his neck. “And as sweet as you are, I kind of liked where this was headed before. Fuck me please.”  
  
“You mean as in let go, as hard as I can?” Blaine teases, pressing his hard cock enticingly against Kurt’s hole.  
  
“Yes!” Kurt’s breath hitches as he speaks. “You know, if you’re feeling up to it.”  
  
“Really?” Blaine asks somewhat dubiously. It’s a fair question; even for Kurt that was very little preparation, and Blaine doesn’t want to hurt him. Kurt grins because he knows once Blaine gets his concern out of the way that Blaine can rock his world like no one else and some days Kurt just needs that.  
  
“I’m hearing a lot of talking from you when I want to be _feeling_ you Blaine” Kurt challenges him, rolling his head in satisfaction as Blaine continues to place tiny kisses along his shoulders.  
  
“You are an incredibly bossy bottom you know that,” Blaine growls at him, lubing himself up hurriedly with the shampoo before spreading Kurt’s cheeks and pushing inside, stretching Kurt insistently until he’s completely inside him. Blaine leans forward a touch, so that not only can Kurt feel him pulsing inside, but he can feel Blaine’s heart beating rapidly against his back.  
  
“Yes” Kurt hisses out, closing his eyes as a dozen different feelings overwhelm him. Blaine holds still, despite how much willpower that must require, giving Kurt time to get used to the sudden intrusion. For a person of Kurt’s experience that time is admittedly very little, but the initial push did burn, a sensation Kurt relishes on any occasion, but the fact that it’s coming from Blaine makes him relish it all the more.  
  
“Move,” he implores after a moment, pushing back against Blaine a little desperately.  
  
Kurt cries out in pleasure as Blaine starts up a steady pace that quickly progresses to sharp, relentless thrusts, angling his hips with a practiced ease to hit Kurt’s prostate every time. Kurt’s hands slide up and down the wet tiles as he tries to steady himself, slipping a little with every one of Blaine’s perfectly positioned thrusts.  
  
Blaine’s hands dig painfully into Kurt’s hips, so much so that he knows he’ll have bruises there tomorrow. It’s not a good look for an escort; interestingly clients don’t like to be reminded someone came before them. It’s about control with them but right now, between Kurt and Blaine, it’s about something else entirely and Kurt wants those marks.  
  
Kurt’s pleasure only heightens as he pictures the marks Blaine will leave, loves the idea of being marked as Blaine’s, owned, claimed, possessed. If that makes him a god damn masochist so be it.  
  
“Come for me,” Blaine whispers furiously against his ear, taking Kurt’s cock in hand and pumping. “I want to feel you coming around me Kurt.”  
  
And that filthy little whisper is all it takes before Kurt is coming hard against the shower wall as Blaine fills him with his own release, biting hard on Kurt’s shoulder to muffle his calls. As the stream of water washes away the evidence of their activities, Blaine turns Kurt around in his arms and leans him back against the tiles, kissing him lazily.  
  
“Shower. Mmm, best idea ever.” Blaine sighs happily against Kurt’s lips and they both grin.  
  
“And to think months ago I had trouble getting you in the bath with me.” Blaine laughs in response to this, playfully nipping Kurt’s neck and Kurt squirms beneath the bite.  
  
“Ignore it,” Kurt instructs as they hear a phone ringing back in the living room. “Just kiss me some more.”  
  
“As you wish.” Blaine says with all the seriousness in the world and Kurt rolls his eyes.  
  
“Way to kill the mood _Wesley_.”  
  
“Princess Bride is never a mood killer Kurt.”  
  
“Really? Because in my book those giant rat things were definite mood killers, not to mention the fact that the lovers spent half the movie either hating each other or depressed because they thought the other was either getting married or dead.”  
  
When they finally exit the bathroom they’re still arguing back and forth whether Wesely and Buttercup are the world’s most ridiculous or romantic lovers, and they continue to debate it as they go about cleaning up the amount of mess they’ve made with the water.  
  
Then as a treat for agreeing that maybe Wesley’s Dread Pirate Roberts get up was sexy enough to make up for the plots failings, Blaine cooks Kurt his pasta while Kurt curls up on the sofa wrapped in Blaine’s bathrobe. Kurt’s robe is in his apartment across town.  
  
“What are you smiling at?” Kurt asks somewhat suspiciously as Blaine walks from the kitchen carrying two bowls with a shit eating grin on his face. Kurt sits up to allow Blaine to join him, his stomach rumbling as he smells the food.  
  
“Just thinking that you look good wearing my clothes,” Blaine smiles fondly, running his fingers along the robe. “You should do it more often. In fact I might hide all your own stuff so that you have to wear mine.”  
  
“Well it’s an interesting way to die, I’ll give you that,” Kurt teases as he tucks into his meal. “Your answering machine is flashing.”  
  
“So it is,” Blaine notes, putting down his food and climbing off of the sofa. “Probably whoever was calling when we were in the shower.”  
  
Blaine presses the play button, and the standard droll voice comes out of the speaker telling him that he has five new messages.  
  
“Someone’s popular,” Kurt comments playfully, his heart leaps in his throat when the voice they hear is none other than Sue Sylvesters.  
  
 _“Porcelain! You’ve either fallen into a ditch and died, or you’re here with your mouthy little hobbit friend! I’m leaving you this message where you’ll be sure to hear it so perk your little ears! This uptight lawyer with a serious case of the curlies just paid me a visit, representing one burly NFL star who has taken quite a liking to you.  
  
"David Karofsky seems to have taken issue being banned from cheerios. Mop head pointed out that Dave never did anything worth being banned other than scare you which, in case you haven’t figured out lady face, is no crime-- and we only have your word on it anyway. Long story short Medusa’s step son informed me that his client is threatening to press charges, which means the law getting involved, which means bad things all around yada yada yada.  
  
"Look lady face, I’ve worked too long and hard to make this agency what it is to watch it all crumble because of one weak link in the chain. You think you can just waltz in and out whenever you like, barely working full shifts anymore and then ask me to stick my business on the line for your pretty little ass? Forget it. I can’t ban a man for scaring you. Dave’s off the ban list.”_  
  
Blaine’s hand automatically reaches for Kurt’s, squeezing reassuringly as the first message ends.  
  
“Well that’s just fucking fantastic. She’s going to get one of those guys hurt and she doesn’t even care.” Blaine tries to press the delete button as it becomes clear that the next message is from Sue too.  
  
“No, let me listen,” Kurt insists. He doesn’t know why, but he needs to hear this. Maybe it’s the masochist in him.  
  
 _“Sorry doll, but today is not your day. Seems like rather than being grateful I give a shit about his puny lawsuit Dave refuses to see anyone but you so either you call me back or I’ll assume your silence is consent.”_  
  
Kurt’s phone is in his hand before the message is even done playing out.  
  
 _“Well look who decided to-”_  
  
“Sue are you fucking kidding me? You can’t let that...that _creep_ back into cheerios and he’s definitely not getting anywhere near me!"  
  
 _“Look I don’t have many choices here alright. I don’t need police and reporters in here, and frankly you can’t afford it either unless you want your face plastered all over the six o’clock news. NFL star shunned by little baby faced whore. I can see it now.”_  
  
“He’s bluffing, that kind of scandal would blow his career.” Kurt seethes. He has no idea if that’s true but a guy can hope.  
  
 _“Tell that to his lawyer curly the bull frog. Either way, it’s not a chance I’m going to take with my cheerios so he’s off the ban list Kurt. End of discussion. Now I was trying to refer him to one of the other boys-”_  
  
“Sue you can’t give him to one of the other guys! He’s dangerous!”  
  
 _“... **when he told me**...”_ Sue talks over him, _“...that all he wanted was you, and that he just wanted to talk. That’s it.”_  
  
“Forget it. No! Sue, I will not,” Kurt snaps and silence reins on the other end of the line.  
  
“Kurt, what’s she...” Blaine tries to ask but Kurt shushes him, desperate for Sue’s response.  
  
 _“I realize this might be difficult for you to processes in your tiny tiny brain so I’m going to speak slowly and clearly,_ ” Sue says slowly and dangerously. _“You will not screw this up. The man wants to talk, clear the air between you two, and you’ll do it Hummel because if you don’, and that no brained neanderthal does something to ruin everything I’ve built, I will personally destroy you. Don’t think I can? Your boyfriend, Blaine Anderson son of Mitchell Anderson CEO of United Banks? I have in my hand a pile of receipts that say good old Mitch is a regular customer of yours. I bet the press would just love that. Imagine the headlines. I will crush you Hummel crush you!”_  
  
Kurt can actually feel the blood draining from his face.  
  
“You wouldn’t.” Kurt doesn’t sound convincing even to himself.  
  
 _“This is my life and livelihood we’re talking about. Of course I would! I’d do it to my own mother! No really, I hate that bitch. I play to win Kurt! So you just have a nice chat with Dave and we won’t have any problems...just don’t piss him off and you’ll be fine. I can even have a man on guard if you like.”_  
  
Kurt hangs up on her, too disgusted to listen further, and quickly sinks his head into his hands. Just as promptly Blaine is beside him.  
  
“Kurt? Kurt, what’s going on? You gotta talk to me.”  
  
Talk about what? The fact that he has either got to meet with Dave or watch Sue ruin not only his life but the lives of good people who have done nothing but try and care for him? He’s furious, absolutely furious that this is happening to him, that he has walked himself into such a position.  
  
 _That’s it....._  
  
That’s what? Kurt wonders.  
  
Everyone has lines, lines they won’t cross, lines they won’t let others cross, and usually they lay buried in the subconscious, barely noticeable so that often they get tripped on and stumbled over. And sometimes our lines etch themselves in fire, sometimes they are as firm and tall as a blockade and show themselves in ways that can’t be missed. These are usually history making moments whether they be on a small or large scale. This moment won’t be written about in history books or picked over in the halls of oxford, but it _will_ define Kurt’s history. Person to person I have to tell you that is no small thing.  
  
Kurt takes a deep breath, feeling odd calm settle over him. He knows exactly what he has to do and exactly what he’s doing after. He’ll let Dave say whatever the hell he wants and then he’s calling Sue and he’s quitting. This is over. It should have been over a long time ago.  
  
“Kurt, baby you’re scaring me. Look at me.” Blaine’s voice brings Kurt back to the present.  
  
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Kurt reassures, him hoping his smile doesn’t wobble. “She wanted me to meet with Dave, but I told her no.” It’s not a lie...not exactly. Kurt feels a little sick but there is just no way he can tell Blaine the whole truth right now. Not without more of a mess. Blaine would only try and stop him.  
  
“Damn right it’s a no. Is she crazy letting that psycho come back?” Blaine asks, anger coloring his tones. Kurt feels nauseous and his stomach actually rolls. He hasn’t felt this cornered or this dirty since that night in the bathroom at Sunshine’s engagement party.  
  
“Can we not talk about it? I...I don’t want to worry... about the other guys.” Kurt is sure that Blaine must know something is wrong by the sound of his voice alone, never mind the tears trying to spill out the corner of his eyes.  
But a guy’s got to do what a guy’s got to do, because the truth is Dave knows where he lives. He didn’t have to go through Sue. He could have waited outside Kurt’s apartment any day of the week. True Blaine is usually with him, but that’s the point isn’t it? Dave has something to say he has no interest in Kurt’s boyfriend hearing, so cornering Sue and getting her to corner him was actually a pretty smart move.  
  
Kurt didn’t think the dumb bastard had it in him but hey, you live you learn and life is full of surprises.  
  
“This really gets to you doesn’t it?” Blaine asks quietly before gathering Kurt up in his arms. “I’m sorry baby, so sorry this is happening right now.”  
  
As Kurt clings to Blaine his first thought is ‘yeah me too’. His second is that if Dave, Sue, or anyone else thinks they can just stomp around jerking Kurt about like he’s some sort of rag doll ruining his life they can think again.  
  
He’s done with that shit. That’s what!

 

~***************~

 

Three days later Kurt sits in his apartment waiting for Dave and his thoughts interestingly enough are on that word: masochist. He has started a list of big moments in his life and it’s a little bit scary how many of them he has to put under the heading of: things I did to punish myself. Turns out he actually has a pretty wide streak of it and it’s weird how he never _really_ got it until he graphed it all out (literally, on poster board with glitter pens).  
  
Kurt is not okay with this. It’s one thing to inflict pain on yourself in a controlled setting with a loving partner and completely another to subconsciously try and screw yourself over at every turn.  
  
His fears about quitting might be valid but his unusual lack of courage when it comes to facing those fears is all about some deep seeded notion that he doesn’t _deserve_ to succeed and it’s a pile of bull shit with a trail that leads all the way back to the play room when he wanted to be the princess during dress up.  
  
It’s kind of silly, kind of stupid, and really terrifying to think his mind cataloged stuff like that, how his world view altered around senseless things like some kid knocking him down and sneering ‘Kurt’s a girl’. Shue says that everybody is this way, that children are natural sponges and nobody really escapes their childhood. But he doesn’t have to let the past own his future, he isn’t everything the bullies called him, he’s worth more than what Sean thought, and he _wants_ more than what he has allowed himself and that’s that.  
  
The Thursday he’s scheduled to meet with Dave he has specifically chosen because he knows Blaine will be at work, and Kurt _really_ doesn’t want to hide things from him but realistically speaking there is very little chance Blaine is going to be on board with the whole idea even cornered as Kurt is. He and his family would insist on Kurt staying away from someone they classified as dangerous regardless of whatever scandal resulted. That’s all well and good, except Kurt is not fond of the idea of standing by twiddling his thumbs while everything goes to shit yet again all because of him.  
  
That and the fact that Dave is just something that Kurt has to face. He can’t live freely with a big question mark over the big louts face, with him lurking in the shadows like some ghostly specter that might pop out at any moment. So face him Kurt shall.  
  
By the time Dave knocks on his door Kurt is ready for him. Sue is on standby; Dave has fifteen minutes, and if Kurt doesn’t call by then she’s to assume the worst and send someone over. He has got his cell phone in his pocket and when he stands aside to let Dave enter he doesn’t lock the door. Kurt has also got the windows open a crack and the shades pulled back so that anyone on a level floor can see right in. He’s as ready to have a chit chat with a guy who threatened to kill him as he’ll ever be.  
  
“Hi Kurt.” Dave looks kind of nervous, like he’s about to ask Kurt to prom, not like he practically black mailed Kurt into meeting with him after threatening his life, and trying to force him to go down on him in a public bathroom. Kurt crosses his arms and moves to stand by the window, being sure not to turn his back on him.  
  
“You’ve got fourteen minutes now, so whatever you’ve got to say Karofsky I suggest you hurry up and say it.”  
  
“Okay...I guess I deserved that,” Dave grumbles going to sit down and Kurt narrows his eyes at him.  
  
“I didn’t invite you to sit down.”  
  
“Kurt don’t be difficult.”  
  
“No, David let’s be clear hear. We’re not having tea, we’re not friends, and the only reason you’re here is because you forced me to let you in!”  
  
“No I didn’t.” Dave insists, gritting his teeth. “No one _forced_ you to be here, Fancy. You opened the door and let me in. You’re mad at me I get it, but don’t act like I held a gun to your head or something when we both know that isn’t true.”  
  
“You threatened Sue! Don’t act like you didn’t know exactly how that would turn out.” Kurt doesn’t know what angers him more, Dave’s nerve or the little hints of truth that dig at him and won’t leave him alone.  
  
“I did, and we both know I have as much to lose by going through with that threat as she does but _maybe_ I don’t care. I needed to talk to you, and I know you Fancy, I knew you’d be here. You want to be here.”  
Kurt’s stomach twists at the sight of Dave’s knowing gaze. His skin practically crawls with the force of his disgust. The thing is he’s not sure it’s just Dave he’s disgusted with.  
  
“Alright talk then. You’re down to ten minutes,” he snaps, holding himself tighter. He doesn’t hold back anything, not his hauteur, not everything he thinks of Dave. It’s etched in every line of his body and he can tell it is frustrating Dave but he isn’t going to simper or cater to the other man’s moods. Not this man, not this time, not ever again.  
  
“I wanted...” Dave swallows like the words are difficult to get out. “I wanted to apologize for my temper. I shouldn’t have gotten so rough with you when we were together. It’s just that I’m not gay you know, but I saw your picture on the website and it was you....just you that I wanted and once I had you it was even worse. I’ve never felt like that about anyone, Fancy.”  
  
Kurt honestly doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say to that. He has always known Dave had issues and that in his own way he does _want_ Kurt but he’s so bent and bottled up with anger at the world (and himself quite possibly) that it all just gets twisted.  
  
“I’m sorry I got on your case about the other guys, I know this is your job. And I’m even sorry for that night in the bathroom. It’s just that you were there with that _asshole_ and he kept smiling at you and touching you and you let him.”  
  
“That’s because Blaine is my _boyfriend_ Dave.” Kurt throws his hands up in exasperation. “Something you and I never were. Can’t you accept that? I don’t get how you can think what you and I did was anything close to a real relationship.”  
  
“I know we weren't. Jesus, Kurt. Is that it?” Dave asks, getting up and stepping toward Kurt. “That’s what this is all about isn’t it? I wouldn’t take you out of here and play the boyfriend. Do you know what being with a guy, a whore no less, would do to my career? It would ruin me. We had a good thing going, Kurt. I could have made some sort of deal with Sue, made us exclusive. You didn’t have to push me away and throw yourself on that...” Dave is interrupted as Kurt’s watch beeps.  
  
“Your times up. You need to leave now.” Kurt can’t honestly listen to any more of this. He goes to step past him and usher him out the door but Dave grabs him by the arm and jerks him around.  
  
“How long are you going to punish me!”  
  
“Let go of me David!”  
  
“Maybe next time I’ll pay for a whole night and you’ll have to deal with me then. Isn’t that right Fancy, isn’t that what whores-”  
  
He’s not even really aware of punching Dave. Just knows that one minute Dave is shaking him and the next his hand feels like it’s broken and he can barely breathe past the anger boiling out of him.  
  
 _I’m never letting anyone call me that again._  
  
This is a line for Kurt, a fire blazed stone wall of a line. He does not think about the consequences, nor the fact that Dave is bigger and stronger than him in almost every way, and certainly not the fact that he and Dave are alone.  
  
“Don’t call me that! Don’t you ever call me that!” Kurt screams at him. Dave wipes his nose where it’s leaking blood and growls.  
  
“Fuck you! You’re gonna pay for that you little bitch.” Dave is on Kurt before he can even think to run and Kurt swings wildly, striking the larger man anywhere and everywhere he can.  
  
“Stop! Get off! Get the hell away from me!” Kurt screams as they topple to the floor. He twists and turns, some instinct inside screaming the warning that he can’t let Dave pin him, that there’s no way he’d get out from underneath him. He bangs his knees and his elbows falling but he barely registers the pain through his panic as he scrambles to get away.  
  
“What’s the matter, saving it for your boyfriend?” Dave taunts, grabbing Kurt around the middle and trying to force him on his back. Hampered by Kurt’s wild struggles he grunts, “You’re such a slut. Does pretty boy know what a little cock slut you are? Maybe he likes it, maybe he likes knowing you come here and let guys like me make you scream.”  
  
“Fuck you Dave!” Kurt snarls as Dave manages to push him on his back. His head smacks against the floor and he sees stars but his body seems to be working apart from his mind. He’s already rearing up, swinging his arms at Dave’s face. “You’re a fucking m-monster and I h-hate you. I fucking hate you!”  
  
“Shut up! Just shut up!”  
  
Dave backhands him hard across the face as if it was no effort at all, and it’s enough to finally stun Kurt into stillness. His vision flashes red, he tastes blood and he moans around the sudden sharp pain. He’s aware of Dave fumbling with his belt and jerking his pants down on some plane of thought but he can’t do anything about it while his head swims and his ears ring.  
  
Kurt inhales on a sob, his hands coming up instinctively to touch his face as his mind struggles to focus and evade the darkness crouching at the edges of his consciousness. He can’t pass out his frantic mind thinks. He can’t pass out. He withdraws his shaking hand and only has a second to note that there’s blood on it before Dave’s crushing weight is on top of him.  
  
He holds Kurt’s arms down above his head as the smaller man resumes his vain struggle to defend himself. He cries out in pain as Dave uses all of his weight to hold down his legs, rendering him completely immobile.  
  
“You had to make this hard…” Dave grunts, “I just wanted to feel good, make us both feel good.”  
  
Terror. Kurt has never known terror like this. It all moves so quickly, too quickly to stop, like time has sped up and is racing by at horrific speeds; yet each agonizing second also seems to crawl past him. He feels every bit of it like each second bites him as it passes.  
  
“Please don’t pleasedontpleasedont.” Kurt can’t understand himself through his chocking tears. He can’t seem to breathe. He knows what’s coming; he’s sure that he will spend hours washing without the comfort of cleansing, sure that he will face this in a hundred nightmares to come, but what he feels most right now is an odd sort of acceptance.  
  
He walked into this. He’s here because Sue said she’d hurt his family and he sought to punish himself for everything; he’s here because of that damn word he now accepts has been the major theme of his adult life.  
  
 _I will never do this to myself again._  
  
This is a line for Kurt. It’s a victory. He has been waging war with himself and he’s going to win but as with every war the victory comes with unimaginable loss. It’s going to be drawn in so much blood one wonders if it was worth the fight. Things that are pure and lovely will become broken and bloodied. He is going to know both the taste of the sweetest love and the vilest intrusion. He has no one to blame but the man above him for taking what he has no right to take, and no one to ask how he ended up here but himself. He brought himself here and oh god it’s happening… it’s happening and… and…  
  
He can survive this. He can survive this. He knows he can. He has to believe that; he has to. He’ll believe it with everything he has until it’s over. He knows that it’s a bad idea long before he does it, but his mind is darting in a hundred directions and one driving instinct is stronger than the rest. Survive. Fight. Dave’s face is rushing towards his and Kurt spits right in it a cry fueled by his terror and his fury ripped from his throat.  
  
“Fuck you!” Dave slaps him again and Kurt jerks, groaning as he fights the wave of dizziness that threatens yet again to drag him into unconsciousness. “Fuck you if this is the way you want it!”  
  
Through the haze of tears and swimming vision he watches Dave force his legs violently apart. The man looming over him fumbles with the button on his jeans and Kurt’s fight instincts roar into high gear again.  
  
“Stick your dick in me and I swear this time I’ll rip it off and feed it to you! I swear Dave” Kurt shouts as he thrashes in Dave’s grasp. He doesn’t care who hears, wants the entire world to hear, Dave to hear because he won’t, he won’t forget this. He’ll kill him if it doesn’t kill him first. It won’t. It won’t wont it wontitwontitwontit….  
  
“It’s not your mouth I want to fuck this time,” the football player growls. His hands temporarily let go of Kurt’s arms in order to pump his semi-hard erection to full hardness; the other he wraps around Kurt’s neck to keep him subdued, knowing that he could easily crush the smaller man’s windpipe with his bare hands. “I’ve fucked you enough times; you were mine! You owe me.”  
  
“D-don’t!” Kurt shouts. “Don’t or I s-swear I’ll call the police you repressed little infant! You’ll rot in jail you a-asshole, if I don’t kill you first you fucking rapist bastard!” Dave flinches beneath the verbal assault, as if he has actually been struck and his whole face goes red like he’s gotten a horrific sun burn. Kurt takes advantage of the weakness. He’ll drive whatever proverbial fist he can into his attacker.  
  
“Rape, that’s what this-s is. That’s who you are right now you fucking mons-ster! And it won’t... it won’t get you anything because I’ll still hate you, and you’ll still hate you! T-this time you’ll fucking deserve it!”  
  
“Shut up. Shut up,” Dave thunders, “You can’t...you can’t rape a whore!”  
  
Kurt kicks frantically as Dave fights to keep his legs open, cursing under his breath when every time his cock is lined up with Kurt’s hole he somehow manages to thrash out of the way. But he won’t be able to forever, Kurt’s terrified of that fact; the only reason this isn’t over yet is because his adrenaline has made him into some sort of hurricane of twisting, swinging, limbs and Dave seems hesitant now, as if he’s _bothered_ by the idea of actually raping someone. Asshole.  
  
“I don’t w-want you!” He screams. He doesn’t want it doesn’t want it doesn’t want it… “I’ll tell everyone and everyone will know the t-truth...what you did b-because you’re a coward!”  
  
Miraculously this seems to stun Dave; he pauses briefly and his brow creases as he battles with himself, mulling over what Kurt has said to him. As Dave’s grip on his neck unconsciously loosens, he sees his chance and he knees the larger man in the groin with as much force as he can muster. Dave groans and slumps his hold loosening further and Kurt swings at him, his fist catching the large man’s jaw as he falls on his side, clutching himself and groaning in pain. Kurt kicks away from him untangling their legs and scrabbling to get up.  
  
“You fucking son of a bitch!” Dave screams as his face contorts in agony. He recovers in lightening quick time, moral struggles forgotten, and Kurt barely has time to scuttle off of the floor before Dave grabs onto his ankle, his nails digging in and drawing blood. The hand griping his ankle jerks him to the floor and he falls with a cry and a thud but Kurt is frantic with the need to get up, get away, get up get up get up! Crying, he kicks violently and catches Dave in the face.  
  
As soon as he lets go of his ankle Kurt is scrambling to his feet again. He’s not thinking about the door, the door is too far away and Dave would catch him. He’s thinking about the dressing table and he’s stumbling toward it like everything in his life depends on it.  
  
Kurt practically knocks it over crashing into it. With shaking hands he flings the drawer open to search frantically through its contents.  
  
He can see Dave lumbering at him from the corner of his eye and he feels a momentary rush of panic when he thinks that he may not find what he’s looking in for in time. Finally his hands happen upon the small metal bottle for which he was searching so frantically. Pepper spray is something every smart escort has at least one bottle of for situations such as these. Up until now he has never had to use it and for all he knows the contents have expired, but he’s not really thinking about that right now. He just needs time to get to the damn door.  
  
Just as Dave grabs him again, Kurt turns around and sprays straight into his glaring eyes. The shriek of agony and horror he lets out this time makes the cry from when Kurt kneed him in the balls pale in comparison. The sound of it is quite shaking actually, enough so that Kurt could almost feel bad for him-if Dave weren’t a messed up little fuck who tried to force him twice now!  
  
“Oh God!! Fuck, Kurt...fucking hell...that hurts! I’m gonna kill you!” Dave shouts as he writhes around the floor, clutching his tear streamed face in a vain attempt to alleviate the burn.  
  
Kurt stands there in front of his prone form, his hand still clutching the spray tightly, heart racing and emotions swamping him all at once: confusion, fear, anger, relief….all of it just races through him until his head spins and he feels like he’s going to pass out.  
  
No. No, he can’t do that. Not yet. Door. Getting to the door, that would be good. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Dave even for a second as he staggers towards the door. He grasps the cool handle and yanks on it desperately, almost smacks himself with it he wrenches it open so fast. He cries out in shock when he literally runs straight into the person standing on the other side.  
  
He screams, pushing against the new threat with vigor, overcome with the instinct to fight and flee.  
  
“Whoa Kurt!” Blaine’s voice cuts through the fog in his mind like a sunbeam. “Baby it’s me.”  
Kurt goes suddenly still, as if he is frozen, his breath coming labored as he sobs.  
  
“Jesus! Kurt, what the hell is going on?” Blaine demands to know, clearly unsure of what to make of his boyfriend flying out the door and into his arms like a bat out of hell. Then he looks behind Kurt and into the front room. His eyes widen at the sight of Dave and Kurt feels his whole body stiffen. Blaine looks back at him, eyes taking in his semi nakedness, the blood on his face, the bruises already forming all over his body and his face darkens in a way that Kurt has never seen it do before.  
  
“What has he done to you?” Blaine asks, almost to himself, as he strokes Kurt’s cheek. He doesn’t give him time to answer. He pushes past Kurt and walks right across the room to where Dave is still thrashing around in pain and Kurt watches numbly. He thinks he’s in shock. As much as a person who is in shock can think they’re in shock. All he knows is that his whole body is freezing and everything is spinning and shaking and he should be saying something, maybe getting pants on, or stopping Blaine, but he can’t make his body do anything but shake.  
  
He’s still staring numbly when Jeremiah and someone in a security officers uniform come rushing into the apartment. He stares dazedly as Blaine, normally so passive, pulls this giant of a man up by the collar of his t-shirt, and starts laying into him like he’s his personal punching bag. He swings like a man who knows how to punch and sometime when his brain isn’t frozen Kurt will wonder where Blaine Anderson learned how to hit someone. His rage is so palpable it crackles in the room but Kurt still fears for him.  
  
Dave still outweighs him by a good hundred pounds and yet there Blaine is, swinging at him like he has any chance against Dave should he get it together enough to retaliate. This, the prospect of Blaine getting hurt, is what finally urges Kurt to move.  
  
“No, Blaine. Baby, don’t. Please,” he pleads, rushing up behind him. He pulls Blaine back by the waist, almost getting elbowed in the eye for his efforts. As much as he appreciates Blaine trying to defend him, the way his face contorts in hatred and fury terrifies Kurt a little. He looks almost unrecognizable like this twisted, dark, and so terribly furious; it breaks Kurt’s heart in a way that Dave can’t even touch.  
  
“Let me go! I’ll kill him! Kurt he...he” Blaine pants as Kurt walks them both backwards, holding him tight and refusing to let go as Blaine twists and shakes against him. The security guard takes in the scene with confusion, unsure who he’s supposed to drag out or what he’s supposed to do with this mess.  
  
“We had a woman call and complain. You okay Mr. Hummel?” He asks and Kurt nods shakily.  
  
“Yeah this is...” Kurt pauses because he has absolutely no idea what he should say. Now that it’s over, now that he’s safe, his threats to go to the police ring hollow. There will be a huge cluster fuck of a mess if he does and he doesn’t give a shit about Dave’s career but he’d like to spare himself and his family that if he can.  
  
Jeremiah clears his throat and for the first time Kurt actually registers his presence.  
  
“I’m Jeremiah Vaun, I’m an attorney and this gentleman is a client of mine.” He gestures to Dave who is sitting up on the floor spitting blood out of his mouth. “He and Mr. Hummel are in a bit of a...legal dispute. Things get heated, I’m sure you understand. If you’d help me get him downstairs we can deal with whatever charges Mr. Hummel would like to press against him with some discretion?”  
  
The security guy nods, glad to have someone taking charge, and goes and wrangles Dave to his feet. As he’s dragging Dave out the door Kurt fights the urge he has to leap on Jeremiah. He mostly manages it because he has to stop Blaine from doing it.  
  
“ _You_ did this? You helped him?” Blaine shouts. Jeremiah to his credit actually looks disturbed by the whole thing. For the first time since they met the older man isn’t looking down on Kurt, in fact he can’t even meet Kurt’s eyes; he looks wilted.  
  
“After you and Kurt ran off from the engagement party I went back to talk to Tyler, to see if I couldn’t get him to get Regina to talk some sense into you one last time. Dave overheard us.” Jeremiah’s eyes finally meet Kurt’s for a second, just a second, and Kurt sees shame there. “He approached me for help. He said that he and Kurt had gotten close and that they’d argued and that Kurt...that you were only using Blaine to make him mad.”  
  
“And you believed him?!” Blaine snaps. “What the hell kind of a story is that? Kurt’s my best friend why would he ever-”  
  
“He’s a whore Blaine! If I...if I were stuck here I’d have used anyone or anything to get out. Kurt has _always_ had something on you no matter how undeserved it is!” Jeremiah snaps back. “You think it was easy for me meeting your ‘best friend’ and finally understanding where that last piece of the puzzle was? Knowing that I would _never_ have you the way he does? I thought you’d wake up one day and just be sick of it you know, always being second, always going on this selfish pricks back burner but it _never_ happened! Not even when you found out that he’d rather fuck every guy in the damn city but you. Jesus fuck, Blaine you just... you gave him everything I wanted from you and it wasn’t fair Blaine. It wasn’t fair!”  
  
“You put his life in danger because I wasn’t fair!” Blaine’s shouting at him again. “I told you I was sorry, and I meant it, and maybe it doesn’t make up for it but that does _not_ excuse one damn thing you’ve done Jeremiah it doesn’t!”  
  
“I know I fucked up alright! I never meant for Kurt to get hurt like this, I just wanted you to wake up! I didn’t want _this_ just you.”  
  
Blaine lets out this noise that sounds like a growl and Kurt tightens his arms around him, shaking his head and asking him quietly to stop. Amazingly Blaine complies. Jeremiah cringes and looks away from them.  
  
“I tried to stop it. When I realized just how far he would take things I called you, Blaine, didn’t I? I told you to get over to Kurt’s place and I didn’t waste any time getting here myself did I? So… no harm done,” he says weakly and Kurt gets so angry with his words that he’s tempted to beat him up himself never mind Blaine getting a punch in.  
  
“No” he says and Jeremiah looks at him again. “You’re smarter than that. You know pretty fucking well a lot of harm was done.”  
  
“I’m sorry... but at least he didn’t…” Jeremiah licks his lips nervously. “I’ll do my best to keep all of this under the rug so we can all just...forget about it...because fuck, this is...too much. Be happy together or whatever but I think you’re crazy. You’re both just fucking crazy!”  
  
And with that Jeremiah storms out slamming the door behind him.  
  
Kurt lets go of Blaine and reaches up to lock the industrial strength latch behind Jeremiah’s departing form. He leans against the strong wood, closing his eyes as utter exhaustion washes over him. Now that it’s over, now that it’s quiet and everyone is gone what almost happened begins to sink in. _Everything_ comes rushing at him at once and he slides to the floor. He starts weeping.  
  
He barely notices Blaine walking towards him but he feels it when his arms circle around him because they’re shaking so. Blaine is crying and Kurt hates that look in his eyes, that grief and that heart breaking fear of the unknown. He grips Blaine’s shoulders so tightly there will be bruises, shaking his head wildly, trying to get words out past his sobs.  
  
“No, h-he...h-he n-never-”  
  
“ _Shhh_ ,” Blaine holds him tight, pressing desperate kisses against his skin. “You’re okay. _Shhh_. You’re okay.”  
  
Kurt doesn’t feel okay, but he clings to the man he loves; they cling to each other, and they take what comfort there is in knowing that if not now then someday soon it will be true.

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Blaine helps him to the shower and he understands when Kurt asks to be alone. He stands beneath the spray for as long as he needs in order to wash away the afternoon, for as long as he needs to feel clean. In the end Blaine taps him on the shoulder- long after the water has gone ice cold and his lips are blue- and guides him out. He dries him off with a fluffy towel, he helps get him dressed and comfortable and then he lays with Kurt on his bed until he has fallen into exhausted sleep.  
  
He doesn’t stay out for long; it’s Sue’s arrival that wakes him. Kurt rolls over so that he can see the door, his bruised body protesting the whole way, just in time to see Sue’s two heavies Lawrence and Sean pass the doorway. He can hear them cracking their knuckles and cursing under their breath about missing the action.  
  
“Kurt’s sleeping,” he hears Blaine explaining. “He was shaken up pretty bad but I think he’s okay. No thanks to you Sue...”  
  
The rest of their muttered conversation Kurt can’t hear, but he does see Blaine walk past the bedroom and into the lounge, running his hands tiredly through his hair. A moment later Sue is standing in his bedroom doorway.  
  
“Porcelain?” For a moment Kurt considers not answering.  
  
“Don’t call me that,” he finally says as he sits up in bed. As Sue comes to sit on the end of it he thinks that he has never seen her look like this before. Gone are the sharp designer clothes offset by the harsh haircut. She’s wearing a hideous read track suit of all things and a pair of scuffed up tennis shoes, and Kurt realizes that today she must have been working from home.  
  
It’s hard to imagine Sue not being involved in the sex industry, that at one point she can’t have been that different from anyone else. He forgets that she has a life outside cheerios, that she can be soft and that there is a heart buried underneath all the layers of ice she has acquired over the years to protect herself.  
  
He wonders at everything she has poured into this life, at everything she has sacrificed to be at the top of the business, to be a _winner_ and feel worthwhile. Did she, like Kurt, nearly lose her love in the process? Did she alienate her friends and break the heart of a mother or a father? Maybe even a sister or a brother? Who loves this woman when she so clearly can’t truly love herself?  
  
“I thought it would make you feel better,” She says softly. “You know that’s not just your working name. That was _my_ name for you. It actually made me happy when you chose it. Sweet sweet Porcelain”  
  
“Were you happy when you were threatening me if I didn’t agree to let Dave in here?” Kurt hears a gasp and looks up to see Blaine standing in the doorway glaring at Sue. Thankfully he stays still and says nothing further. Kurt is grateful for Blaine’s support, but this is his boss, his mess to deal with, and his life to finally get in order.  
  
“Could you give us a minute?” he asks Blaine, who doesn’t say anything at first. He glances from Kurt to Sue and then back to Kurt before nodding silently. He never does say anything before he leaves but Kurt does catch the way he mouths I love you. Kurt loves him too. He really, really does.  
  
“You have every right to be upset,” Sue says once Blaine is gone.  
  
“I’m not upset, Sue, I’m pissed off, with myself as much as you,” Kurt seethes honestly. “I didn’t have to do this. I could have said fuck you and walked away to face whatever mess came of it, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to pretend like you dragged me in here kicking and screaming.”  
  
“I knew you would,” Sue nods in agreement, “I...Kurt I wouldn’t have-”  
  
“Can we agree not to lie to each other right now?” Kurt interrupts her. “Because I think you would have, the same way you made the threat knowing I would cave. You’d have done it and you know I know that so you made the threat knowing _exactly_ what Dave is like. Does it scare you? Looking at yourself sometimes? It would scare me.”  
  
Kurt’s a little shocked to see that there are tears in Sue’s eyes. Kurt thinks that Sue rarely allows anything to touch her enough to draw tears but there are tears now. She isn’t letting them spill.  
  
“You know that you’re a favorite of mine?” She comments, blinking the tears away. “You’re one of the most popular escorts I’ve ever had and you don’t irritate me half as much as the rest of the boys. You’ve got your head screwed on, which despite your appalling fashion sense, ridiculously soft center, and blatant refusal to cower in fear of me... I’ve come to respect.  
  
“But I knew the moment I met you that I wasn’t going to keep you. I wanted to. I saw you had enough of me in you to go as far as I have. But I knew you wouldn’t because I also saw something sweet in you… something that I’ve missed.” She smiles sadly at him. “You’re sweet inside dough boy, sweet and sugary like someone I once knew. The world didn’t get her either and I...I... the point is you’ve got this boyfriend and a whole life outside cheerios and I could feel you slipping away with each passing week. You, Cheerio’s, they’re all I’ve got. Yes. Yes, looking at it all...looking at myself sometimes I get scared.”  
  
“Sue, I’m touched that you like me,” Kurt says after a long pause. He’s honestly not sure what can be said between them, or what it is that Sue needs from all of this. It’s not important though, not as important as _finally_ doing what he needs to do. It can’t be.  
  
“I’m sorry if you regret some of the things you’ve done with your life. I really am, if anyone can understand your life it’s me. But I’m not...I’m not _her_ , whoever she is, and I can’t help you face yourself. I’m done here. I need to move on with my life.”  
  
A ghost of a smile appears on Sue’s face and she looks at Kurt strangely with an odd combination of pride and understanding on her face, much like Kurt would imagine receiving from an older sibling or a parent.  
  
“I know.” She pats his hand. “Could you take on one last booking for me before you resign? It’s a special case and I promise it’s completely safe and you wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone.”  
  
Kurt narrows his eyes at her suspiciously.  
  
“I have a sister; she’s in a special place right now where she receives care,” Sue explains. “I’m close with one of her care taker and needs a date to a party. He didn’t ask me for one of my boys but I want to help him out, do him a favor.”  
  
It’s an odd request and Kurt hesitates, unsure of what Sue’s angle is.  
  
“I would consider it a personal favor. Jeff has....Jeff has done a lot for me the past couple of years.” Something in Sue’s voice eases Kurt and he doesn’t really know why but he nods. He thinks it has something to do with that word: care.  
  
He walks somewhat stiffly to the front door to see Sue out and then heads straight into the living room where he knows Blaine is waiting for him. Sure enough there he is sitting on his favorite arm chair near the balcony doors, not reading or watching television to pass the time, just waiting.  
  
Blaine’s eyes meet his and Kurt offers him a weak smile. He feels heavy inside but it all lifts, dissipates like steam, as Blaine returns his smile almost timidly.  
  
He crosses the short space between them and crawls into Blaine’s lap without waiting for an invitation.  
  
“Are you okay?” Blaine whispers as he curls up against him. He really shouldn’t be considering the circumstances. He should be a wreck, and he likely will be for a while, but right then he’s fine. He’s battered but exhilarated; he’s shaken but not crushed. He feels unmistakably free.  
  
Have you ever seen a swarm of bees leave a hive? It’s frightening, it’s loud and it’s angry. Do you remember the virgin queens, how they have to leave the hive with the swarm before they can find their place in the world, before they can truly be the Queen bee?  
  
Today has been such a day, an angry frightening day swarming with conflict and danger, but it’s settling now and not only has Kurt braved it all, but he’s still standing at the end. If you have ever been through such a day, ever had to fight for your life, then you can understand this exhilarating feeling of victory that Kurt has.  
  
Kurt Hummel feels frankly that he could soar, and of course it might not last but for the moment it is enough; for the moment he is.  
  
“Yeah,” he smiles at Blaine. “I think I am now.”


	21. Revelations and Reperations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Kurt came to realize that he does in fact want more from this life than he has allowed himself.

Kurt’s next few weeks are hard in a way he has never had to experience but there is one thing that he holds on to. He is a free man. The chain around his ankle is broken, the stone around his neck nearly lifted. In those weeks he touches no one and nothing he doesn’t want touching him and though it is for pretty horrible reasons, simply having the right to remain untouched is a privilege he has not had since he signed his person away at the age of twenty two. Those weeks are good and largely uneventful.  
  
Well if you don’t count deciding whether or not to press charges against a guy who tried to rape you, announcing to your loved ones you’re retiring from a career of prostitution, and continuing therapy with the likes of Will Shuester as events, then yes, uneventful.  
  
He and Dave (and their respective lawyers) have agreed not to press formal charges as long as he respects the agreement never to come near Kurt or his family members without invitation. You have to understand that this is not an easy decision to make; it brings with it turbulent emotions and quite a bit of stress. Kurt is plagued with sleepless nights, showers that run too long, and touches that shouldn’t make him flinch away and yet do.  
  
Of course there’s a part of him that wants Dave to pay for that, there’s a part that would like to see the man in prison orange. He wants it every time he wakes up sweating and gasping from a nightmare, he wants it every time he thinks back to that day and can’t quite stop himself from shaking. He wants it simply because now the man he loves most always has to ask, and when he is rejected it is a constant reminder to them both of what was and could have been.  
  
But it’s complicated. There’s no justice in it but the reality is nonetheless that seeking legal justice would actually prove more of a punishment for Kurt than it would for Dave. Sure it wouldn’t be a picnic for Dave either but a messy court case and a prison sentence isn’t going to change David Karofsky (it might actually just further embitter him).  
  
Because he is who he is it would be a _long_ case right up there in the public eye. Everyone would have something to say about the allegations against star linebacker David Karofsky and no one would hesitate to take a side. Kurt and his family would be dragged into it, poked and prodded and examined at public leisure. Dave would just plead not guilty; He would say that Kurt was a professional tease and a whore and that he’s out to ruin Dave or whatever twisted version of events he has in his mind. While Kurt has relative surety that the law would come through, he’d still lose.  
  
His life would still be a public spectacle. Everyone would still have their own opinion, their own version of events. While it’s brave to say he doesn’t care what people think of him, the grim reality is that not caring won’t stop people from talking or reacting in whatever way they feel they have a right. The letters, the calls, the looks, and the unshakable title: that prostitute in the Karofsky case. Kurt wants none of it.  
  
The grim truth is that putting Dave behind bars puts Kurt behind bars of an entirely different sort. Fair? Certainly not. Justice, no it is not. But reality? Yes. And Kurt as you know is good with dealing with what is (except of course when he’s not).  
  
So Kurt tries for a normal life. As long as Dave stays the hell away from it he’ll be fine. If he doesn’t, well then Kurt has friends and family he can turn to for help and they’ll deal with it they’ll gird their loins and face whatever comes their way. He doesn’t honestly think it’ll come to that because he doesn’t think Dave is fond of the idea of donning the prison orange any more than Kurt is fond of messy public court battles.  
  
So they will part ways, and for a while it will seem as if Kurt is the one who loses here as well. It is he who will have to deal with the nightmares, with the fears, the therapy and the painful memory while Dave continues a shining NFL career and gets off freely.  
  
What is hardest and most important to remember when you suffer unimaginably is that when you survive it you still have his life and everything that entails. Kurt will have his family, a man who loves him, and his self. He can do with himself and his life whatever he chooses because he is not broken, not chained (inside or otherwise), and that is enough for any man. He also has a promising new job as a full time Wedding Coordinator at Anderson and Anderson Brides, a promotion that has come with much celebration and much pride on Kurt’s end.  
  
When he asked to become a full time assistant he half expected to be turned down, or at the very least told to wait. Elaine has faith enough in him to hand over a significant chunk of responsibility, to go above and beyond what he asked for, and she does it without a single reservation.  
  
She knows what Kurt knows, what Blaine knows, what Sue knew when she looked into his eyes that day she sat on his bed and he told her it was over. It is, and Kurt will now make of his life whatever he wants and Kurt has always been one to want great things.  
  
The important thing to remember in all of this is that Kurt is the one who is free, justice or no, and life itself is life’s sweetest gift. Always; you just have to be willing to take it.  
  
Kurt is. The night before he went out and lived and now he feels like dying.  
  
 _That’s it, I’m never drinking again._  
  
This is a shallow line in the sand and Kurt will more than likely trip over it again many times throughout his continued adult life.  
  
This is the first thought that enters his head as he wakes up on Sunday morning after a particularly heavy night of celebrating with his friends. The last thing he remembers clearly is sipping his third rum and coke in The Shadow Lounge, giggling as Rachel announced that she was so fed up with men that she’s becoming a lesbian. She hadn’t taken kindly to being informed by Blaine that it’s not just something you decide to do one day.  
  
Kurt lets out a pitiful groan as he slowly becomes more and more awake and the thumping in his skull refuses to let up. Cradling his forehead and not daring to open his eyes, he gropes blindly in the spot next to him until his hand hits Blaine’s familiar form.  
  
“Was that thigh slap your way of saying good morning?” He hears Blaine ask in amusement. He manages to crack one eye open to see him sitting up against the headboard reading the morning paper and looking far too chipper considering the state they were both in the night before. “Actually strike that, it’s almost afternoon.”  
  
“How is it that you don’t feel like crawling under a rock and dying?” Kurt groans in frustration as Blaine chuckles sympathetically. He and Blaine have a pretty rough history with drinking. Blaine turns into a horny flirt and Kurt has the worst morning after constitution of anyone he knows.  
  
“Because I was puking before we even left Shadow and I have consumed almost an entire jar of Wild Ed’s dill pickles,” Blaine admits with a wry grin, gesturing to a nearly empty pickle jar on the bedside table. “I figured you’d be feeling like death warmed up so I come readily prepared.”  
  
“God you’re an angel,” Kurt sighs happily as Blaine passes him a glass of water and an Alka-Seltzer. He knows from their college days that Kurt isn’t fond of the dill pickle regime.  
  
Kurt downs the drink almost in one go before placing the glass on the bedside table and wiping his mouth. He lies for a while trying to convince himself he isn’t dying. Then Blaine shifts next to him and suddenly his face is right there.  
“Can I have a good morning kiss sleepy head?”  
  
“No. No!” He protests, giggling as Blaine keeps trying and he pushes his face away. “Remember the rule; No morning breath. Right now my mouth tastes like something crawled inside and died, and _you_ have pickle breath so you just keep away.”  
  
It’s good, that with time Kurt’s nerves have become less sprung, that the nightmares are fewer, and less and less often he has any reason to ask either to be left alone or held because of a dark memory; it’s very good.  
  
“Isn’t it awesome? We’re like heroes, braving death breath and pickles at every turn for the sake of our love. Somebody should write a song.” Blaine smiles lovingly as they share their first kiss of the day, a slow, lazy affair, which is about all Kurt can manage right then. Blaine pulls a comically disgusted face as he pulls away. “Wow. You need to brush, Kurt.”  
  
“ _We_ need to brush. My mouth tastes like a pond now Mr. Pickles,” he grumbles playfully, elbowing Blaine in the ribs as he climbs out of bed and practically drags himself into the bathroom.  
  
“Drink from a lot of ponds, do you?” Blaine snickers.  
  
“You could make yourself useful and make breakfast while I’m in the bathroom,” Kurt calls through a mouthful of toothbrush, turning on the shower to give the water a chance to heat up.  
  
Sure enough, once he emerges from the shower and heads back into the bedroom he finds a plate containing scrambled eggs, veggie sausages, baked beans, fried bread, hash browns, and a steaming hot mug of tea. He rolls his eyes at Blaine’s breakfast selection but can’t keep the grin off his face regardless. He eats his breakfast and watches a little daytime television while Blaine showers.  
  
Eduardo and Pamela are still arguing over who the real father of her baby is when he catches sight of his reflection in the window; having fallen into bed drunk without doing any of his nightly skin care routine, or even bothering to do much of anything for that matter, he naturally looks like a train wreck.  
  
Cursing Blaine’s lack of a decent mirror Kurt grabs his lotions and potions and sits crossed legged on the bed, resting Blaine’s pitiful excuse for a mirror on the mattress.  
  
“I don’t know why you bother putting all that stuff on your face,” Blaine remarks as he appears with a towel wrapped around his waist. Kurt stares unashamedly and wishes for it to suddenly come loose and fall down. “You’re stunning.”  
  
“And there’s a reason for that,” Kurt reminds him, stealing a quick kiss as Blaine sits down next to him.  
  
“Hmmm maybe I should start using this too,” Blaine ponders, picking up one bottle and inspecting the label.  
  
“You’re one of those people blessed with pigmentation. It’s a natural concealer, you don’t need this.” Kurt smiles and takes the expensive bottle from Blaine’s hand just as there’s a knock on the door. “I’ll go look,” he tells him as Blaine goes to get up. “You get dried and dressed.”  
  
Kurt’s brow furrows in confusion as he looks through the peephole to see an older Jewish man standing there, decked out in the whole regalia with a massive beard and what he can only describe as a box on his head. Hasidic Jews, he remembers from some long ago conversation with Rachel; the most Jewish of all the Jews she always said.  
  
“Blaine,” Kurt calls. “There’s a…..Jew at your door.” He doesn’t know quite what else to say. It’s a surreal sight to say the least on a Sunday morning. There’s a burst of laughter from the bedroom.  
  
“Well _that_ was P.C. of you.” Blaine chuckles as he jogs out of the bedroom, fully dressed but still towel drying his hair. He pulls Kurt out of the way to look for himself and pales. “Shit. It’s my landlord. What if he heard you?”  
  
Kurt leaves Blaine to talk to his landlord, flopping back down onto the bed to finish his skin routine just as his phone starts to ring.  
  
 _“I hear congratulations are in order?”_ Sue asks immediately. _“Something about you getting a sex change and plastic surgery in a last ditch effort to model yourself after Jenifer Lopez?”_  
  
“If that’s your strange way of asking if I got the promotion, then yes. Kurt Hummel is now an official wedding coordinator for A&A Brides,” he replies.  
  
 _“That’s awful. I’d send a sympathy gift if I cared enough. I’m calling about your dinner with Jeff next week. He works for Hallmark, an assisted living center not too far from you. The event is a wedding, the director of the program is getting married and has invited a lot of the staff as well as the seniors that live there. Jeff not only needs a date, he needs some help getting some of the residents to the event. Think you’re up for it?”_  
  
“Sure. I don’t see why not,” Kurt responds, quickly going through his mental diary to make sure he’ll have time to leave earlier. “Text me the address later and I’ll barrow Blaine’s car.”  
  
 _“Will do, just one more thing Porcelain”_ she adds before hanging up. _“How good are you at granting wishes?”_  
  
Before Kurt can react to Sue’s rather bizarre question his eyes are immediately drawn to Blaine as he re-enters the bedroom, his face sullen as he trudges in, making no attempt to smile. “I have to go,” he apologizes, hanging up before Sue can continue.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks in concern as Blaine joins him on the bed.  
  
“Bad news, my landlord’s selling the building to some big company that wants to turn it into office blocks.”  
  
“Well that sucks,” Kurt sympathizes, kissing his shoulder.  
  
“I know,” Blaine sighs, running his fingers through his damp curls. “I mean, it’s not like I’m attached to this place or anything, but it’s _mine_ you know. The first thing I really worked for without my parents help. Yeah it’s kind of a hole in the wall but it felt good making it on my own.”  
  
“You always love your first place,” Kurt commiserates and Blaine smiles at him.  
  
“Oh well. I guess I was planning on upgrading sooner or later. I’ll miss the commute though, it will be hard finding a place closer to work than this.”  
  
Kurt realizes then that Blaine doesn’t just assume that he can move in with him. Sure, he isn’t a complete idiot; he knows that Kurt’s place is open to him while he searches. It would be ridiculous for it not to be since they live there half the time anyway.  
  
But the thing is that apartment is Kurt’s home, the place _he_ worked for and loves. It’s filled with mementos and cluttered with things from _his_ life. He remembers what Blaine said about that apartment being his place, and it is, it really is. How strange is it that this should suddenly mean so much to Kurt, to realize he has put down roots of his own and to feel such pride in something so simple. Maybe every adult has a moment like that, maybe he should have had it a long time ago. Maybe he’ll have it a few more times before this life of his is over.  
  
Yes, he probably will. Someday when he and Blaine get that townhouse together he might feel like this again. He wants that but, for now, this is enough. This is perfect. It’s enough knowing that Blaine sees Kurt not as some damsel in distress he can rescue and sweep about wherever his white charger should take them.  
  
Kurt’s life is an odd sort of fairy tale. He might be the princess but he’ll slay his own damn dragons. Blaine’s an odd sort of prince; he stands outside Kurt’s castle and waits to be invited in. Kurt kind of loves that.  
  
“Move in with me.”  
  
Blaine’s face is a picture, and Kurt wishes he had his camera right now to capture it.  
  
“Kurt, you don’t have to-”  
  
“Oh stop. We spend all our time at one place or the other anyway. I can count on one hand the number of nights we’ve spent apart since getting back together. We’re living together Blaine, we’re just doing it in two locations.”  
  
“You mean it, don’t you?” Blaine asks in disbelief. “Are you sure? Because there’s a difference you know. There’s...”  
  
“Commitment? I’m already committed to you,” Kurt reminds him with a kiss. “And my apartment’s huge. We can redecorate and both have our own spaces to work. I promise not to seduce you when you’re busy, except when you want me to.” He gets excited imagining it all in his mind, imagining an honest to god home for them to share.  
  
“We can make the second bedroom into a guest room for now and.... and maybe one day we’ll want...maybe we’ll want something more than just the two of us.” Kurt blushes, he actually blushes, but that’s ridiculous so he keeps on as if he’s not. “One day we could make it into a nursery. I know it’s weird coming from me, but I really love you. I want to be with you all the time. I want to get up and make you breakfast before you go to work, and do your washing along with mine. All sorts of dumb things like that. I can’t even believe it’s coming out of my mouth honestly.”  
  
“So in fact you want to be a 1950s housewife?” Blaine asks with this brilliant smile that Kurt wants to see all of the time. He’s beaming and Kurt is pretty sure that his own face matches him grin for grin.  
  
“By ‘I’, I mean we. We make breakfast, and we do our laundry. We live together and we’re happy,” Kurt reasons softly, surprising even himself with how much he’s ready for this. “But don’t think you’re getting out of buying me pearls.”  
  
“Of course. How else can you vacuum in them?” Blaine agrees, laughing heartily as he all but launches himself into Kurt’s arms. He hugs him fiercely but holds him at arm’s length to earnestly add, “But on one condition; we give it a month’s trial. After that if we feel that we’re not really ready or that it’s going to jeopardize our relationship or whatever, then we back up and take it slow. No pressure for either of us.”  
  
Kurt smiles in satisfaction as he snuggles up against Blaine; he knows it’s not going to be an issue, but he agrees anyway.  
  
“Done.”  
  
Blaine starts to move his stuff over that very day, and it’s not until that moment that they _really_ get just how much of his stuff is already at Kurt’s apartment anyway; moving permanently doesn’t take half as long as they’d originally anticipated. It’s the best idea either of them have had yet.  
  
*****************************  
  
“Knock, knock.” Kurt looks up when he hears the sound of Regina’s voice at his office door. _His_ office door. He has a hard time wrapping his head around that idea sometimes, but he loves it too. He sometimes feels like he has a lot to prove. Not only as the new guy at A &A Brides but because he knows that while he might be talented, and he’s more than capable, there are those who will say it’s his relationship with the Anderson’s that has put him on the fast track.  
  
Kurt doesn’t mind the speculation of his assistants. There’s some truth to it after all. Who knows where he’d be if things had panned out differently. What he does know is that he _is_ qualified, he does have talent, and no one had better try and stop him.  
  
“Hey. I was just getting wrapped up for the day.” Kurt waves Regina inside. “What can I do for you boss?”  
  
“Stop calling me boss for one,” Regina orders, smiling. “What’s with the car?” Kurt looks to his computer screen where the tab is still open on a black Escalade.  
  
“Oh. I’m thinking of getting one. Now that I’m here full time I thought it would be good to have my own instead of taking Blaine’s all the time.”  
  
“A Cadillac Escalade?” Regina asks leaning over to peer at the screen. “Looks like a tank. I would have pegged you for something more sporty.” Kurt chuckles.  
  
“Reggie you should know by now I am a man of many faces.”  
  
“I know right? You’d think a gal would learn.”  
  
“So what’s up?” He asks, adjusting a picture frame on his desk. Regina smiles at the picture of him and Blaine. It’s from her birthday weekend, before everything went to hell in a hand basket.  
  
“Tyler’s got a big conference coming up in L.A.” she explains. “He’ll be gone a couple of days, and we’ve discussed maybe my tagging along, making it a week away. Since Kyle was born between him and our jobs we haven’t had much time to ourselves. I swear I’m going mommy mad.”  
  
“He still teething?”  
  
“Yep, Ty and I have been on our toes. I could use a short get away but I don’t want to leave Kyle with a sitter,” she admits. “I’m nervous enough leaving him after he just got over his cold, let alone with a stranger. Mom and dad of course are happy to have him to spoil for a couple of nights, but I know dads got that big dinner at least one of them. So I was wondering if you and Blaine could pitch in? Don’t feel obligated; I haven’t even decided if I’m going to go. I shouldn't go. Should I go?” Kurt tries not to laugh at her obvious distress. It’s just funny seeing ‘keep calm and carry on’ Regina like this.  
  
“Yes you should. You deserve a break and you’ve got four capable adults in your corner who are more than adept at handling a teething baby.”  
  
“Oh bless you. Of course you’re right. You’re so right. Thank you Kurt.” Regina hugs him and Kurt finds it a bit harder not to laugh. “I’ll talk to Tyler tonight and I’ll call you with the details.”  
  
“Sure. Blaine and I are going out with a friend tonight FYI, so leave a message if neither of us pick up,” he shouts at her back as she’s exiting.  
  
“Wait sorry what was that? You didn’t suddenly realize I’m a horrible mother and decide that I should rethink my life did you?” she asks poking her head back through the door.  
  
“I said Blaine and I will be out, so if you call one of us and we don’t pick up just leave a message.”  
  
“Oh. Wonderful I’ll do that. See ya shorty.”  
  
“Bye.”  
  
As soon as the door clicks shut Kurt is laughing at her.  
  
*****************************  
  
Kurt gets home that night and showers. Then he sets about getting ready for their night out with Alex and a guy from work that he conveniently invited along, as well as preparing the surprise for Blaine that arrived that morning after he’d left for work.  
  
The past few days have been nothing short of bliss; no more planning whose apartment to stay at, no more carrying his house around with him like a hermit crab – Blaine’s here all the time and Kurt loves it.  
  
It’s astounding how easily they’ve settled into cohabitation (or living in sin as Blaine’s grandmother is calling it). Without needing to be told Blaine knows when Kurt wants to be left alone just to read or get work done and in turn Kurt knows exactly when Blaine needs to work or when it’s okay to pull him away from whatever he’s doing. They can sit for hours in silence, just watching the TV or listening to music, just like Kurt would do if he was alone but it makes all the difference because Blaine’s there with him.  
  
The silly things that made them fight the last time they lived together- both as friends and lovers- like food, sharing the housework, and the way they like do certain things are still there of course. It’s _them_ that has changed. They are older, wiser, seasoned and most importantly committed. Kurt Hummel can’t decide if he’s a different man entirely than he was a year ago, or if he’s just finally allowed himself to be the sort of man he always was. It could be both.  
  
Kurt’s putting the finishing touches on his outfit when he hears the front door open, and he quickly selects that red scarf Blaine is always borrowing from him before Blaine can take it for himself.  
  
“Honey, I’m home,” Blaine calls out cheesily. He has used that same line every day this week but since the novelty of living together has yet to wear off it hasn’t grown old.  
  
“How was your day, dear?” Kurt asks on cue as he wraps his arms around his neck and places a peck on Blaine’s cheek.  
  
“ Absolutely terrible,” his boyfriend answers, breaking the little role play that they’ve been doing. He’s still smiling though so Kurt knows it can’t be that bad. “Paper work upon paper work, then the most boring meeting of my life. All I could think about was you waiting for me at home… preferably naked with a smile on your face.” Kurt laughs as Blaine looks him up and down disapprovingly. “Two out of three isn’t bad. How was your day?”  
  
“Busy.” Kurt replies with a slight sigh. “We took on a new client today, June wedding. Manhattan socialite, bound to be drama.”  
  
“You’ll handle it though, you always do,” Blaine assures him, stepping past and into the living room.  
  
“What’s in the package?” Kurt asks as Blaine places a box on the coffee table.  
  
“Not sure, but I think it’s another house warming gift from Carol.”  
  
Sure enough, Kurt recognizes his step mothers elegant handwriting and sees that the postmark is from Lima. This is the third package Carol has sent this week since finding out that they’ve decided to shack up. She usually sends letters, a few pictures of Finn and Dad and a lot of TJ and Quinn. There’s usually some food in there and a couple of recipes for Kurt to try out as well. Kurt has to remember to send her a couple of the heart healthy deserts he has discovered recently. Ones that even a tough critic like his dad will approve.  
  
“Oh my god she packed the ingredients for chocolate lovers cake. Kurt you have to make us some,” Blaine exclaims as he rifles through the box. Kurt pauses in his reading of a letter from Carol regarding the happenings in Lima.  
  
“Not until we finish the pie I made or we’re both going to be obese by the time we’re thirty Blaine,” Kurt sighs dramatically as Blaine practically gnaws open a bag of chocolate chips. “Stop that! There will be none for the cake. Beside I’ve got another surprise for you.”  
  
“Really?” Blaine wiggles his eye brows suggestively, giving Kurt a serious case of the elevator eyes.  
  
“Not that. We’ve got to be out of here in ten minutes,” he chides gently, taking Blaine’s hand and pulling him through to the bedroom. This action does nothing to stop him making suggestions that they skip dinner. Kurt ignores these and steps aside to let Blaine see inside the room.  
  
His boyfriend’s brows furrow in confusion. “Is that a different bed?”  
  
Kurt grins widely. “Isn’t it perfect? It’s about a foot wider than my old one. I think the catalog called it ultra king size or something.”  
  
Blaine walks over to it, pressing the mattress cynically with his fingertips before flopping down on it. “Oh my God!”  
  
“I know, isn’t it the most comfortable thing you’ve ever lain on?” Kurt gushes as he does the same. “I couldn’t resist. And the headboard is mahogany which is going to be amazing when we paint the walls in here. I’m considering different blue tones. And just be happy that this bed isn’t vibrating and in the shape of a heart because I saw one like it with this fabulous canopy and I was seriously _this_ close.”  
  
“Everyone loves a good canopy,” Blaine agrees, kissing Kurt’s temple. “It’s beautiful, but didn’t we already have a perfectly decent bed?”  
  
“Yes, but I wanted this to be just ours,” Kurt explains softly, a little embarrassed. “No one else will ever have sex in this bed other than the two of us. You’re already saying _our_ apartment, and calling this home. I just wanted you to know that I feel the same. This Blaine Anderson is now _our_ bed. Go with the moment here or I won’t let you help pick out the coverings.”  
  
If Blaine thinks it’s strange that _Kurt_ is being the sentimental romantic here he doesn’t let on, but his smile has now reached epic proportions. He cradles Kurt’s cheek as he claims his lips in a tender kiss.  
  
“Thank you, our bed is lovely Kurt. You’re lovely.”  
  
Sometimes it makes Kurt laugh that even in bed Blaine is ridiculously dapper.  
  
And then he does stuff like nuzzle Kurt’s neck and drag his tongue over the skin peeking out under his raised collar and whisper, “so fucking lovely. What do you say, shall we christen it?”  
  
“We’ll be late for dinner. We really...” Kurt’s protests stop immediately once Blaine’s mouth is on his. As the kiss continues Blaine pulls him down to rest on top of him, opening his legs to allow Kurt to settle between them. Kurt kisses him long and deep, hating the fact that they actually have to be somewhere and trying to get as much of his taste as he can to tide him over before he pulls away.  
  
“Come on,” he entreats when he finally has to. “I promise we’ll give our new bed a proper christening when we get home.”  
Blaine’s only response to that is a groan.  
  
******************************  
  
Dinner with Alex and Travis is a fun relaxed affair. Kurt is glad for the night out, and honestly glad that it looks like even though the three of them have quite the interesting history they’re going to remain friends. He really likes Alex, but he could also see how it might have been weird for Blaine to know that Kurt is close with his ex-client/almost-boyfriend.  
  
On the contrary the two men seem to both like and understand each other and Kurt is glad for that because Alex is good to them both. He will never forget how he was there for him when he really needed it.  
Kurt’s obviously playing match maker inviting Travis along (it’s not just to even out the third wheel aspect) and Alex knows it. He’s good natured about it, asking Travis questions about A&A Brides that Kurt could have answered and laughing at Travis` honestly terrible joke about the two blonds and the curling iron.  
  
Travis seems to really like Alex but Alex is harder to read. He’s polite, he acts interested, and he stays engaged in the conversation but there’s just something distant about him that he can’t quite put his finger on. Kurt knows what he’s like when he’s truly open and he knows he isn’t now; not really. There’s a part of Alex that is closed off and locked up with a do not enter sign.  
  
As dinner wanders to its end Kurt has the rather startling thought that Jeremiah would get it. There’s something about Alex that shines, that might draw you closer but when you try and get there you find yourself stumbling onto private property and you just feel awkward and intrusive. Quite simply he belongs to someone else and it’s hard to miss.  
  
Dinner winds to a close and since Alex is the only one who drove he offers them all a ride home but Kurt insists that he and Blaine want to walk. Blaine gives him a look, because it’s a chilly night in early December in New York for Pete’s sake, but he agrees when Kurt pinches him beneath the table. They can take the subway if they have to and it is a beautiful clear night. Maybe some alone time with Travis will help Alex loosen up.  
  
It’s cold as Blaine and Kurt walk along but it’s also nice, holding hands, leaning into each other and talking quietly as the city that never sleeps teams around them. When Kurt’s phone rings he’s not all that surprised, still expecting a call from Regina. He checks his phone to see ‘caller unknown’ displayed, which needless to say is a little off putting. He can’t help the slight trickle of fear.  
  
“This had better not be a cold caller,” he mutters as he answers, telling himself not to be frightened of nothing.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
There’s initially no answer, only heavy breathing, and then finally, _“…..Kurt?”_  
  
“Hello?” Kurt asks again when he hears his name, his brow creasing in confusion.  
  
 _“Kurt?!”_ The voice is more desperate this time and Kurt breathes a sigh of relief as he recognizes the voice.  
  
“Brain” Kurt can barely hear him over the sound of his breathing and the bad connection.  
  
 _“Where are you?”_  
  
“Where am I? Walking home. You better not ask me what I’m wearing next,” Kurt answers tersely, and Blaine looks over at him with growing concern. This is admittedly a strange call and the ragged sound of Brian’s breathing is frightening him a little and Kurt’s sure it shows on his face.  
  
 _“I know you’re probably with your boyfriend, but…..”_ Brain trails off like he wasn’t in mid-sentence. It’s familiar.  
  
“I’m with Blaine yeah,” he confirms, frown deepening as his heart starts to pound. “Brian are you alright?”  
  
 _“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt, but….I didn’t know who else to call. You said...you said if I ever...”_ There’s something about his voice, it chills Kurt and he can’t suppress the fearful shudder that creeps over his skin.  
  
“Hey now, this is okay...we’re okay. Where are you?” He asks trying not to think about what sort of condition Brian might be in if he truly has overdosed again.  
  
 _“Why doesn’t it stop when... it should be quiet up here but it isn’t, it never is. It never stops. You wanna know what the worst part is? I couldn’t do it and I should have. The river was right there and I wanted to drown, deserved it, and...and I ran instead and everything is worse.”_ Brian starts crying heavily muttering something incomprehensible through his sobs. At the horrified look on Kurt’s face Blaine stops in the street and Kurt leans against him.  
  
“No, Brian, this is good. It means you wanted to live and that’s good. You’re okay.” Kurt has no idea what he’s rambling about because things are definitely not _good_ if Brian tried to throw himself in the Hudson that night. Kurt has never been responsible for someone elses life before, he has never had someone call him because they don’t want to live, never had to deal with knowing he and whatever he says or does might be the only thing standing between them and a mistake they can’t reverse.  
  
“Brian I want to help you but you need to tell me where you are.” He tries to keep his voice steady, low and gentle, but he’s shaking.  
  
 _“Park Avenue.”_  
  
“Park Avenue alright, we’re not far from there. Where on Park Avenue?”  
  
 _“Harlem. The hotel.”_  
  
“Jesus, what are you doing _there_?” Kurt blurts without thinking. Every prostitute knows about ‘Park Avenue Hotel’ in the middle of East Harlem. It’s the sort of place that rents rooms by the hour and you get hepatitis if you sit on the toilet. It’s genuinely filthy and well known for prostitutes, but not the kind they are, the ones that charge $20 for an hour, not $200. It’s also nowhere near the Hudson River now that Kurt thinks about it.  
  
“Never mind, don’t worry about it. Can you walk?” He asks, not wanting to upset the other man further.  
  
 _“I don’t know, I think so. I’ll try.”_  
  
“We’ll meet you in the lobby okay?”  
  
 _“…okay”_  
  
Kurt hangs up, looking to Blaine with no small amount of panic in his eyes.  
  
“We need to get to Park Avenue.”  
  
“Why. What’s going on?”  
  
“It’s Brian, I think he might have overdosed again and he tried… he’s really bad off,” Kurt stammers even as he’s doing his best to hail a cab. “Call Alex for me, tell him to meet us there.”  
  
“Why?” Blaine asks in confusion, pulling out his phone as a cab finally halts in front of them.  
  
“Because we don’t have a car, and if Brian is hurt we can’t cart him around in a Taxi.”  
  
“Is he okay? Just strung out, or do you think he really needs help?” Blaine asks as Kurt gives the address to the cab driver.  
  
“He sounded... I don’t know Blaine I’m afraid he might have done something to hurt himself.”  
  
Kurt’s suspicions are confirmed when the cab driver halts in front of the hotel about ten minutes later. While Blaine pays Kurt gets out and heads for the front entrance as a solitary figure comes into view, staggering out the doors as if every step is pure torture.  
  
Kurt and Blaine rush to meet him, the coppery odor of blood hitting them as Brian keels over just in time for Kurt to catch him. His face is almost unrecognizable, bashed up, and there is blood matted in his now dull and knotted hair. What is even more alarming is the amount of weight Kurt can see that he’s lost, even from just a few weeks ago.  
  
Kurt can see his bones protruding against his skin through his torn clothes. He’s practically skeletal.  
  
It’s just then that Alex pulls up and Kurt gestures for him to stay inside; he yells for him to keep the car running when the Englishman goes to get out and help them. This is not the sort of neighborhood they want to dally in and they are beginning to draw a crowd.  
  
“Let’s get him in the car.” Kurt instructs, gesturing for Blaine to grab the now almost unconscious Brian under the other arm. It takes them ages to get him in the car but they manage it between the two of them.  
  
“Hospital or home?” Alex asks and Kurt is suddenly grateful that Alex knows exactly what he used to be. Knowing that Brian is a friend of his from his old work he also understands the choice Kurt has to make.  
  
Hospitals mean questions, and considering Brian's battered condition it also means police. All of which will get Brian and Sue in trouble. Kurt’s leaving the business, he has a life outside of it that he wants to live but Brian is different. Cheerios is literally all Brian has.  
  
“Home.”  
  
Alex drives them home as quickly as he can get them there and drops them off at the front door. While he goes to park the car (you can’t leave a car sitting idle anywhere in the city) Kurt and Blaine struggle to get Brian upstairs. He’s almost delirious and every few minutes he starts to struggle and try to get away. It’s a miracle that no other residents are disturbed; though it’s possible that they hear and just don’t want to be bothered with other people’s business.  
  
It’s not until they finally get him over on the couch that they can get a picture of the full extent of the damage. Brian’s face is horribly swollen and bloody and it looks like his nose could be broken. His neck is dotted with painful looking love bites and the crotch of his jeans is covered in blood.  
  
He seems to be favoring his right arm and Kurt remembers he was limping heavily as he walked. Most alarming are the teeth marks visible through his open shirt, vivid bite marks around his nipples and on his torso. There’s blood and bits of skin under his nails suggesting some sort of struggle, and his bottom lip is bleeding as if he has been biting it. Holding him Kurt can’t help the way his mind flashes back to being pinned on the floor and he starts to tremble.  
  
He bites his down on his lip, fighting back tears as Blaine returns from the bathroom with the first aid kit and a wet towel.  
  
As Kurt is cleaning off Brian’s face the blond finally opens his eyes to look at them properly for the first time; at least as best he can considering one eye is almost swollen shut.  
  
“What now?” Blaine asks quietly; Kurt really doesn’t have the answer. Brian clearly needs medical attention there’s no avoiding that and he can’t just disappear off the grid again or Sue will definitely fire him instead of just maybe.  
  
“I guess I call Sue,” he answers weakly.  
  
“No!” Brian shouts, his voice hoarse and broken. “You can’t!”  
  
“She needs to know,” Kurt insists softly, pushing the blond’s damp hair from his forehead in a soothing manner. “And you need a doctor.”  
  
“You don’t understand,” Brian sobs pitifully, shaking his head and it rakes at Kurt’s heart because he has never ever sound Brian sound so pitiful, like a child.  
  
“I think I do,” Kurt murmurs hollowly, eyes trailing over his friends injuries. They stop at the visible track marks on his arms. “And I think you’ve been lying to me. You’re using.”  
  
Brain nods, tears continuing to spill out the corners of his eyes as the story spills out. Things have been so much worse since Jason, Kurt had known that, but hearing about the drugs, hearing about him sleeping with him his dealer in exchange for hits- it hurts to hear.  
  
When Brian learned that Kurt was leaving Cheerios for good he got sick of it all and tonight tried telling his dealer that he’d had enough, that he would let him have one last free ride and then he was going into rehab. The dealer flipped out at the thought of losing not only one of his main users but the extra money Brian made him dishing out sexual favors in payment for free drugs; he’d beaten Brian and taken what he wanted from him.  
  
Brian admits it all tearfully, and then he’s throwing up and promptly passing out.  
  
“Oh Brian, you stupid, stupid boy” Kurt cries as he strokes his brow. Their stories are so different but he has always known that where it counts they are alike. They have made a lot of the same choices, have both done everything they could to try and hurt themselves without really being aware of it until it was too late.  
  
Kurt was lucky in a lot of ways. Life hasn’t always been easy but he has always had people who love him, people who tell him the truth even when he doesn’t want to hear it, people to tell him that he is worth more than what he allows himself. While he was a little boy in Lima being knocked down there were arms to catch him and they have only grown in number as he has grown. The little orphan in England had no one and has only turned away anyone who has reached as he has grown.  
  
It’s strange though, Kurt thinks. Brian didn’t mention trying to commit suicide again in his retelling of the night’s events.  
  
“Alex is back,” Blaine calls out, breaking Kurt out of his reverie as he opens the door for their friend. Alex ducks inside and Blaine closes the door quietly. He hears Alex ask how Brian is and Blaine recapping quietly what Brian has told them.  
  
“He doesn’t want to go to a hospital, but he’s so beat up I think we don’t have a choice,” Blaine is saying as they step into the living room.  
  
Blaine comes and stands beside Kurt and Alex follows, patting Kurt’s arm in a comforting sort of way as he crouches down next to the couch. Then he looks over at the man lying prone on the cushions and does an almost comical double take. Kurt wonders what’s wrong with him when he sucks in a breath so loud and sharp it practically knocks him over.  
  
“Whoa. Are you okay?” Blaine asks, steadying Alex with a hand. Alex doesn’t answer right away. He shakes his head like it’s wet and he’s breathing so heavily Kurt is afraid he might be hyperventilating.  
  
“Aaron.” He breathes the name like it’s something reverent.  
  
“No, not Aaron. Brian” Kurt tells him gently but in no uncertain terms, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t understand Alex’s sudden panic attack or _whatever_ this is, but the very last thing they need is for one more person to lose it right now.  
  
“I know what his name is!” Alex insists so forcefully Kurt actually flinches. “His name is Aaron Breon Olson. His mother used to call him Breon after his father, and Aaron _hated_ it. He didn’t start going by Aaron until we met… I told him he could change, that he didn’t have to have a name he hated.”  
  
“Breon….that’s just another form of Brian isn’t it?” Blaine asks quietly.  
  
“Yes. It’s Irish.” Alex whispers shakily. He reaches out slowly as if he’s afraid the man on the couch will crumble once he touches him. Kurt and Blaine share a worried look.  
  
“How can this be possible Alex?” Kurt asks gently. “Are you sure this isn’t just…I don’t know…. a coincidence?”  
  
Kurt will admit it’s strange that Brian Holt should look enough like Aaron Breon Olson to deceive Alex into believing the two men are one and the same, but this is not the sort of hope he wants to encourage only to find out later it isn’t at all true. That would be horrifically painful for his friend. Besides, Brian’s face is so battered Kurt can barely recognize him so how can Alex be so sure?  
  
“Kurt I’m not crazy,” Alex says with voice ragged, tears beginning to gather in his eyes as he finally presses tentative fingers to Brian’s brow. “You think I didn’t see his face on a million strangers after...after they didn’t find a body? I stood there, listening to the police speculating where best to look. I went to that damn river while they dug it up. I _wanted_ them to find something so that I would stop seeing him behind every face, stop imagining I heard his voice, and felt him watching me.”  
  
Kurt gasps, hearing again Brian’s words from earlier.  
  
 _‘I couldn’t do it, the river was right there, I wanted to drown.’_  
  
“He...earlier he said, he said something about trying to drown in a river. I thought he meant the Hudson, I thought he meant....” Kurt trails off as Alex lays his head on the edge of the couch and starts to cry. It’s not tears of relief, or tears of joy, it’s not anything but broken weeping.  
  
Blaine and Kurt share a look of shock and amazement as slowly, like light creeping in through the blinds little pieces put themselves together in Kurt’s mind.  
  
It’s strange to think that life should work this way, offer up such a miracle in the face of so much ugliness. Life does that sometimes. Life can be so dark, so full of storms that it is easy to think that it’s not worth the living of it.  
  
Here is what I, Kurt Hummel, know. Here is what I learned from it all.  
  
There might be something after this, a heaven or a hell, but there’s no way to know until you get there. What I do know is that there is plenty of hell here on earth, and plenty of heaven.  
  
Life is only spent well if it’s lived, and no one truly lives weighed down by hate. Hate for others, hate for change, hate for circumstances, or hate for self, it’s all the same. Living is loving, and life can hold an infinite amount of joy for those who have it.  
  
Life is fair where people are not. Good and bad happen to everyone, and this is just my observation so maybe I’m wrong, but good has a way of coming back around.  
  
I didn’t know it then though. That night I just saw the pain. I just couldn’t understand the mystery of it all, the painful irony. I thought life was a bit of a cruel joke. Strange when you think about it, Alex was the first stranger I trusted with my name and Brian was the second.  
  
 _“Kurt. What’s yours?”  
  
“Brian. But what’s in a name anyway.”_  
  
As it turns out, only everything.  
  
As Kurt Hummel found himself again, he’d touched Alex and Alex had touched him. He’d touched Brian and Brian touched him.  
  
 _“I said he was good remember. He didn’t bail on me. I just figured out that the guy on dry land only sinks so long as he’s trying to hold onto you.”_  
  
“Aaron,” Kurt says his name softly, the name Brian loves and not hates. “Aaron, you stupid, stupid boy.”  
  
***********************  
  
Kurt and Blaine curl up on the couch together after Alex leaves with Aaron and the paramedics. As Kurt looks up at Blaine, he notices the red stains on his jacket; Aaron’s blood. He looks down at himself and realizes he’s covered in it too.  
  
“Take that off,” Kurt whispers seriously, so quietly that at first Blaine doesn’t hear him. “Take it off!” Kurt shouts this time. He can’t bear to look at it, not on Blaine, tainting him. He doesn’t belong in this sort of world, Kurt never did either and neither did Aaron. Does anyone? What sort of a world is it when things like this can occur?  
  
“Okay sweetheart, shhhh” Blaine soothes, holding up his hand to pacify Kurt, a startled look on his face.  
  
“I thought...I thought this was over. Make it go away,” Kurt whimpers almost non-audibly, not caring how childlike he sounds.  
  
Quickly Blaine sheds the jacket and he helps Kurt shed his when his trembling fingers pull at the buttons. Kurt watches him as he goes to throw the soiled clothing into the washing machine, then changes his mind and throws it straight into the trash; Blaine knows Kurt really well.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought....I thought...” Kurt doesn’t know why he’s crying, why it all seems so horrific right now when everything has been going so well, when he’s finally free.  
  
“Baby it’s okay. Shhhh Kurt it’s okay.” Blaine assures him softly, kissing his worried brow. “Br- Aaron I mean, is going to be fine. And this...this is good. This is sort of amazing actually.”  
  
“You don’t understand. I just... it hurts. Because he, you don’t know what he’s been through and some of it...some of it he couldn’t stop but so much of it... so much of it he could have... and Alex h-he...” He’s a hysterical mess be he has to make Blaine understand he has to confess and make him see. “Blaine I could have stopped this, I could have said enough and I never did and you, and our families, you all had to watch and now I get it. The watching part and I hate it.”  
  
Kurt wipes his tears and takes a deep breath before he continues, Blaine’s hand finding his of its own accord as he watches the scene unfolding in silence.  
  
“I’m sorry okay. I’m sorry for what I put us both through. I want you to know that, and I don’t want our life to be about this but... but there’s blood on our couch, and on us and I just.... I hate it.” Kurt sniffs wrinkling his nose.  
  
“It’s not your blood Kurt. It’s Aaron's.” Blaine points out quietly. “You made a choice to get out, for you, and that’s all I ever wanted. You made that choice Kurt, and it took courage, and it took strength because no one else but you could make it. That’s what that blood on our couch means. Aaron couldn’t do that for himself, but maybe now after meeting you Kurt. Maybe now he can.”  
  
Kurt lowers his head against Blaine’s chest their hands still gripping each other’s tightly as he takes time to breathe, takes time to let the tears fall and wash away the pain of the evening. When the last one falls and Blaine is still holding him, when he still feels the warmth of his body and hears the beat of his heart beneath his ear; he wants him.  
  
Wants the love they have.  
  
Wordlessly Kurt stands, and still holding Blaine’s hand leads him to the bedroom and onto their new bed.  
  
These two men. They’re going to watch a lot of Princess Bride in the years to come. It’s Blaine’s fault but Kurt will indulge him, and Kurt will secretly come to love it as much as Blaine does. As the movie reaches its close Blaine will always lean over and whisper these words into Kurt’s ear before kissing him.  
  
Since the invention of the kiss there are only five kisses that were rated the most passionate, the most pure. This one leaves them all behind.


	22. No more running.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt delivers some tough love (which he totally believes in now).

On Saturday morning Kurt wakes with Blaine in his arms as he does most mornings- when Blaine hasn’t rolled himself into some strange position half off the bed. For a moment everything is peaceful and he thinks, _how did I get so lucky_? And then he remembers Brian, Alex, blood and the night before and his eyes well with tears. Old habits die hard you must know because his second thought is, _how can I possibly deserve this_?  
  
“You don’t,” Blaine mutters, surprising Kurt (he wasn’t aware he’d said any of that out loud) and the shorter man rolls over so that he’s facing his much more awake bed partner. “Do any of us deserve something this amazing?”  
  
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like it.” Kurt shrugs and Blaine nods with a small yawn.  
  
“Me neither,” Blaine nestles closer to him, fitting against him like a puzzle piece. “But you love me just the same and it’s a miracle I don’t want to question.”  
  
Blaine has it so wrong. If anything he is sort of a miracle; it’s unheard of that a man like Kurt should have a Blaine. Despite what this tale and the movies would have you believe, Pretty Woman is not all that common in real life; so for Kurt to have found his Blaine really is nothing short of a miracle. He has got the right of it, Kurt decides. The only good questioning such things will do is confuse him and maybe even cause him to miss out on a good thing.  
  
He wonders then how often Aaron woke up in the mornings and stared at the man beside him and asked the same question. How can I possibly deserve this? It’s a loaded question, a dangerous one, but only if you don’t consider that not deserving something can make a miracle even  
sweeter. Love isn’t about who deserves it or not, thank whoever you want to thank for that.  
  
“We should get up, have breakfast, and then we should call Alex,” Kurt decides already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I want to go see Aaron.”  
  
And so they get up and get showered and while Blaine makes breakfast Kurt calls Alex. He answers on the second ring.  
  
 _“Kurt, thank god I think I’m going mad!”_  
  
“Whoa, what’s wrong? Is Aaron-”  
  
 _“He’s fine physically, at least I think so. Fuck I wouldn’t know because I’m not fucking kin and he’s refusing visitors.”_ He takes a deep breath and Kurt can hear him struggling for composure. _I stayed with him all night and when he woke up Kurt…_ ”  
  
“Alex?” Kurt grips the phone when the other man falls silent; Kurt is sure he’s crying.  
  
 _“He said he didn’t know me. He looked right at me and said that and he won’t let me see him. Maybe I should go away like he wants but I can’t. I fucking can’t because…”_  
  
“I know,” Kurt murmurs. He can’t because he loves. “Alex it will-”  
  
 _”God damn it! Go away! He wants me to just fucking disappear like he did, like it doesn’t mean a bloody thing to him, like it’s that fucking easy the fucking bastard! No!”_ Kurt hears something smash. _“He’s going to talk to me! He’s going to tell me why! Why! What fucking sense does it make? Why why damn it w-”_  
  
“ALEX!” Kurt shouts, trying to break through the storm of rage he can’t see but can feel as if it were something as tangible as heat. He hears heavy panting and then the sound of Alex gulping back tears.  
  
 _“God… I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just, god I think it hurt less when I thought he was dead."_  
  
**********************  
  
“I’m here to see Brian Holt?”  
  
The woman behind the desk squints and types furiously on her keyboard before shaking her head.  
  
“I’m sorry but there’s no-”  
  
“Sorry. Try Aaron Olson.” Because Alex brought him in and Alex would use his real name, Kurt thinks. It had been a rough morning to follow a rough evening and now he is in for another one because he is coming straight from Alex’s apartment to the hospital. Why? Because there is no way he can spend half his day comforting his utterly shattered friend and not try and shake some sense into the other one.  
  
Brian- shit Aaron, Aaron needs a shake in so many ways.  
  
The woman gives him a strange look but she searches the records regardless, only to shake her head again. “I’m sorry sir but he isn’t receiving any visitors except family and-”  
  
“We are his family, and if he had any sense he’d know that” Kurt snaps, fed up not with the woman but the man on a bed somewhere in a hospital room that he _is_ getting into, see if he doesn’t! “We’re all going out of our minds with worry so if you don’t mind telling him that Kurt Hummel is here and to pull his head out of his ass, or I will go room by room until I find him and do it for him!”  
  
The brunette’s eyes widen slightly and for a moment Kurt is sure he is going to get security called on him, but the woman just sighs and holds up a finger for him to wait. Kurt waits impatiently for about six or seven minutes before the woman returns, a harassed expression on her face.  
  
“Stubborn as a mule that one. The other guy who left here, waited around for hours looking crushed. Saddest thing I ever saw,” Kurt’s heart drops until the woman gestures impatiently at him. “He’s agreed to see you. Jana will show you the way, visiting hours are until 7, mind your time.”  
  
Kurt follows a perky orderly to the elevators and answers her inane questions about his weekend distractedly. They exit on the second floor and about halfway down the hallway she stops and knocks on the door of what must be Aaron’s room, before entering and cheerfully announcing that his visitor is there. When she’s gone Aaron makes a face.  
  
“What does she have to be so blasted cheerful about? She’s surrounded by sickness and death; one would think it would be awfully depressing.”  
  
“You want to know what’s also depressing?” Kurt asks as he marches to his bedside. “Throwing your life away because someone loves you and you have some dumb idea that you don’t deserve to be loved.”  
  
“Do I?” the blond snorts, wincing a little as his bruised face muscles pull. “I let him think I was dead for years and then when he somehow managed to find me a whole fucking ocean away I told him I had no idea who the hell he was. I’m a real prince, Kurt. It sounds to me like I _really_ don’t deserve your precious Alex.”  
  
The amount of contempt in Aaron’s voice takes Kurt back for a moment; it breaks his heart because for the tiniest moment he wonders if Aaron might not love Alex as fiercely as Alex loves him. Then it catches up to him that the bitterest sharpest word in that mix had four letters and began with Y.  
  
“ _My_ Alex?” He asks with a scoff. Aaron can’t possibly…  
  
“Yes, bloody wonderful saint Alex who tried to save the little orphan boy, whom fate guided across the ocean and into the loving arms of the sweetest little piece to ever call himself a hooker. Alex, the English knob you fucked and told me about for Christ’s sake! You told me and I never put it together,” Aaron drums his fingers restlessly on the rails of his bed and then digs them through his long hair in frustration.  
  
“And if you’d have put it together Aaron what would you have done?” Kurt asks, walking around the bed and forcing the other man to look at him. “You’d have run away, like you’ve been running away for years-”  
  
“Shut up, Kurt! You don’t know a damn thing about me and what I have or haven’t run from-”  
  
“I know you ran from him! I know you run from me when I try and get close to you! I know you’re running from the fact that you love him right this moment and it’s so stupid when he loves you Aaron and you don’t-”  
  
“ _Really_?” The other man practically spits. “But then again you would know exactly how Alex feels wouldn’t you, Kurt? Do enlighten me. Was he confessing his love for me whilst he was fucking you or-”  
  
“Yes!” Kurt throws his hands skyward. “Yes, you stupid stubborn moron! Before, after, during, all day, every day! There wasn’t a single second I spent with that man I didn’t know how much he wished I was three inches taller and stupidly blond and stupid!”  
  
As Kurt seethes Aaron stares at him glare firmly in place, until slowly it begins to slip. Then without warning dry chuckles rumble in his chest and a second later he is full out laughing and leaving Kurt to stare at him in befuddlement.  
  
“Stupidly blond and stupid?” Aaron gasps and Kurt can’t help but smile a bit.  
  
“Well you are,” he says leaning over to place a hand on Aaron’s shoulder. Maybe it’s the contact, maybe the older man is just finally ready to break, but without so much as a pause for breath his laughter becomes a sob and then he’s weeping and Kurt wraps his arms around him.  
  
“Don’t cry, and don’t… don’t be jealous,” he pleads as he rubs Aarons back. “You let him think you were dead. What did you expect?”  
  
“I expected for him to get what he deserves and I expected to either die or forget; none of which happened. I remember everything and nothing helps. It won’t go away.”  
  
“Aaron look at me,” Kurt lifts his head and tearful blue eyes stare forlornly into bright eyes that might be so heavily blue that day because they are reflecting his. “Love isn’t about whether you deserve it or not. One of the best things about it is it’s there even when you don’t. Which is why, if you’re smart, you don’t question it. You just take it and you honor it by trying to deserve it, even just a tiny bit, and if you’re lucky the person you love will always think you do. It’s a neat parlor trick.”  
  
Aaron chuckles wetly and wipes his eyes on his forearm. “And you swear by this?”  
  
“It’s working out for me so far.”  
  
“Hmm, while I will bear that in mind Mr. Hummel- if Alex Porter should ever lose his mind and decide to forget what an utter mess I made of his life- I think… I think it’s more important I figure out how to love myself. Because no one hates me more than me,” Aaron admits, lying back in the bed. “It gets damned tiring after a while.”  
  
Kurt knows that truth all too well. Aaron is right, regardless of how either of their hearts ache for mistakes that can’t be undone, the important thing is that Aaron figure out how to live and love for himself; not Alex or anyone else.  
  
“I know you don’t think it’s possible but would you want him to forgive you?” He asks the blond after silence has stretched between them. “If you could make a wish and this ended however you wanted…”  
  
Kurt asks because it hurts to see his friends hurting, because he wants to know whether to hope for the best of both worlds or whether to prepare to brace them both during the difficult and messy process of moving on and picking up their lives without each other. He knows what he hopes but he waits patiently for Aaron’s answer.  
  
Aaron’s lips quirk up in the corner and he gives Kurt a look that says he knows exactly what he wants to hear. Then he sighs and he looks towards the window but not at it; his gaze is focused where no one but him can see.  
  
“I’d fill the walls of some studio with a hundred pictures, a hundred moments, to give everyone a taste of life and the tragedy of it, the beauty of it, the sheer and utter majesty of being a living breathing creature. All of them would be beautiful and people would call them great art, but I would know the true art, the greatest masterpiece was still at home with me, close to me and… mine, just mine.” At Kurt’s puzzled frown Aaron smiles but says nothing more.  
  
Kurt tilts his head, used to Aaron’s vagueness and habit to philosophize even the simplest aspects of life. He is coming to learn though that there is always something to learn when he decides to share, even if he is frustratingly coy in the sharing.  
  
“Still at home with you?” He ponders. Aaron had specifically said he’d be happiest knowing his greatest masterpiece was still at home with him, which could mean he wasn’t being metaphorical. Maybe it was that simple, maybe it was something actually already in his apartment. But, no, his apartment was so depressingly bare except… except for the photos.  
Kurt sees them in a flash, an array of abstract shots- a lady bug climbing a shoulder, bare feet in a sandy beach, hands holding a fork full of cheesecake up to a delightfully smiling mouth- the person in them always out of focus, the sharpest detail always something seemingly inconsequential. He’d asked Aaron once why he never took pictures so that you could know the person in them. He’d said, “I do”.  
  
*************************  
  
Kurt understands Aaron's deepest wish, and he hopes for both his friends sake that one day he get it. Wishes are important. Back when Kurt was still that little boy in Lima, every night his mother would tuck him in and before she left him she’d press kisses to his cheeks and tell him to wish. ‘A kiss for a wish’ she called it. Sometimes Kurt would wish for new toys and days later he’d find an action figure or a doll on his bed like the toy had wandered in and decided that Kurt’s bed would make a nice home. He had always been a smart kid, he’d known it wasn’t really magic and that his parents were behind it, but it had always felt magical. He’d always pick up his new toy and run to give mommy a kiss.  
  
Sometimes Kurt would wish for other things: a trip to the zoo, a story from daddy, new colored pencils, a best friend. His parents couldn’t always grant his every wish but it never spoiled the magic when they couldn’t. He never cried if wishes weren’t instantly granted because his mother had already explained to him that it didn’t work that way.  
  
 _“Dreams speak in whispers, do you know what those whispers are called darling? They’re called wishes.” Elizabeth Hummel whispered conspiratorially to her baby boy, as if revealing a grand secret. “A kiss is a wish without words. A kiss says I love you, I wish you every happiness.”  
  
Kurt smiled as his mother kissed both his cheeks. He eagerly pressed his lips to her cheek when she turned it towards him expectantly.  
  
“Keep dreaming sweetheart, and know that just as daddy and I work hard to make those real for you, you’re gonna have to work hard sometimes too. All your dreams may not come true but some of them will and that’s just enough.” Elizabeth waited for her sons nod of understanding before she continued, “So I’ve got the kiss, now what’s the wish?”_  
  
Sometimes Kurt would wish that mommy would get better, that daddy wouldn’t look so worried and that mommy didn’t have to spend so much time at the doctors. Dreams don’t always come true, you don’t always get everything that you wish. Kurt had to learn that like every child. It started with his mother dying and his father disappearing into himself.  
  
Back then Kurt would sit sometimes by himself, wanting things to be better, wanting his father to hold his hand again because it might not be a kiss from mommy but it had a magic of its own. It said some of the same things in a different way. _I love you. I’m here. Everything is fine._  
  
Eventually his father’s grief had mellowed into something less consuming and when he could see past it he’d held Kurt’s hand plenty. They’d held each other in every sense of the word and soldiered on with life. But life, life threw changes and Kurt was soon changing in ways that scared him, ways that made him flush with shame and curiosity. He’d always been different before, but now, now he didn’t even know if he was natural. There was a period of Kurt’s life where he felt that nothing he wished and that nothing he dreamed would ever be granted to him.  
  
He is no longer that confused teenager, no longer a cynical adult, and no longer does he labor beneath the mantel of a lie that he should expect _nothing_. Kurt has lived in a world where his purpose was the gratification of the wants, wishes, and needs of others. It has never been Kurt’s right to make demands, or expect his needs met. His relationship with Blaine is different, but it is not wholly unaffected by Kurt’s years as a prostitute. It would be impossible for there not to be some trickle down effect.  
  
Some of it is kind of good. Kurt is fearless in bed, and this in Blaine’s opinion is a _very_ good thing. But some of it is kind of bad too. When they’re kissing, when Kurt has his fingers inside Blaine and Blaine is writhing beneath him, sometimes Kurt just _wishes_ for things...  
  
Of course Kurt could just ask. They are lovers, he topped plenty of times the first time they were together, so this shouldn’t be such a wall. After talking with Aaron it’s impossible to miss that the reason he doesn’t is because there’s still a part of him that feels like a second class citizen who somehow lucked out and should step really lightly else the gift he has been given will be snatched away. He doesn’t feel like he deserves it, which given what he wants probably has all sorts of interesting meanings a therapist would love to pick over.  
Thankfully Kurt’s a lot better these days at recognizing his true desires and once having sorted them, asserting them without fear. Assertive is Shue’s word for this week. And seeing as this is a very special week, his official last week as a Cheerio, Kurt is feeling all sorts of assertive.  
  
It’s Tuesday, and it’s when Kurt is sitting in his office that he decides he wants to tear down this last wall. He has taken back ownership of his body, and he’s in a loving relationship with a man who happens to love that body. So why not treat them both? Why not own his desires rather than suppress them? Why not assert himself?  
  
He has to work late most of the nights this week because Regina is out of town and he’s taking off the weekend. He’s got the wedding with Jeff and he wants time with Blaine before they’re babysitting for the following week. Kurt doesn’t mind watching Kyle, but he has it on good authority that teething babies kill the sex life.  
  
Kurt’s phone buzzes around seven and he opens it to find a text from Blaine.  
  
 **Blaine:**  
Pretty woman stop awhile, pretty woman talk awhile. Pretty woman give your smile to me. Pretty woman look my way. Oh yah yah yah, pretty woman say you’ll stay with me. Because I need you. I’ll treat you right. Come with me baby, be mine tonight.  
  
 **Blaine:**  
If you come home soon, I promise I’ll treat you reeeally good.  
  
Kurt is glad he’s alone in his office because the way his face flushes he’s pretty sure anyone observing would know exactly what he’s thinking about. That decides it for him. He’s going home and he’s rocking Blaine Anderson’s world. Never mind Blaine’s inability to choose gender appropriate lyrics to serenade him with, he loves the gesture. He loves Blaine and wants to enjoy him ever way possible.  
  
 **Kurt:** But wait....what do I see? Is she walking back to me?  
  
 **Kurt:**  
I’m almost done here, and when I get home I have every intention of treating myself. You’re mine tonight Anderson.  
  
He fires off the messages with a slight flutter of nerves and tells himself not to be ridiculous. This is Blaine, and he has no reason to reject...Kurt jumps when his phone buzzes in his hand.  
  
 **Blaine:**  
Grrrrowl. Mercy.  
  
Kurt laughs so hard he drops his phone. He’s picking it up when it starts ringing and he’s still laughing as he answers, expecting it to be Blaine.  
  
“Do you know how cheesy you are?” Kurt asks and there’s silence on the other end.  
  
 _“So Sue told you I take it?”_ An unfamiliar voice asks.  
  
“Oh....sorry. I was expecting someone else. Who is this?” Kurt flushes and the stranger laughs.  
  
 _“No problem. This is Jeff. I got your number from Sue. I hope that’s not a problem?”_  
  
“Oh no, it’s fine.” Kurt reassures him. “Is there something Sue hasn’t told me? Because none of the info she has given me I’d classify under cheesy. Excusing the fact that you spend all your time helping the disabled at an assisted living center of course and apparently can’t get a date to save your life. It’s adorably perfect actually.” He hears rustling on the other end of the line like Jeff is fidgeting.  
  
 _“Yeah...um, I wanted to call cause I felt like you deserved to know what you’re getting in to. Sue’s sister Jean, I work pretty close with her. That’s how I know Sue so well and I know about...everything she’s done to make sure Jean gets the care she needs. It’s pretty awesome so... I I guess I’m trying to say I don’t judge you guys or anything. It’s cool or whatever if you’re cool with it.  
  
But I’m not, I mean I don’t want to do anything cause this wasn’t really my idea, I...shit this isn’t coming out right. Nick Borski, he’s related to my director- the one who’s getting married, so yeah he’d come around all the time and help out and talk to me while I worked my shift. He actually helped me get this job cause he knew I was looking...anyway... Jean got attached to him and she took it pretty badly when Nick and I got in this huge fight and now he doesn’t come around like he used to.”_  
  
Kurt’s eyes widen as Jeff continues to spill out words like he can’t say them fast enough.  
  
 _“And Jean made this Christmas list and Sue saw it when she was visiting and she asked what ‘Jeff and Nick be happy again’ was all about and practically ordered me to get back together with him, which is you know not gonna happen- even if I wanted it too- because we were never together like that, I mean at least we never put a label on it. It just happened and we were cool with that. I was cool with it because it was new for both of us and I thought he needed time to adjust, but apparently not because I saw him in the rec room the other day and he didn’t wait five minutes before telling me all about his perfect new boyfriend. And I thought fine whatever, but I’ll shave my head before I show up at a wedding stag and watch Nick and some looser get their mack on in front of me even if the guy is a guitarist in a band!”_  
  
Yikes, is all Kurt can think. And he thought he and Blaine had trouble getting it together. Sue’s comment about granting wishes is making a lot more sense now. And look at that, just like always Sue demands the impossible. When did he go from prostitute to match maker? How the heck is Kurt supposed to push Nick and Jeff together if Nick is dating some guitarist and happy about it? Why does he promise Sue things before getting all the details? You’d think he’d learn. Kurt sighs, and resigns himself to the challenge ahead.  
  
“Look Jeff, I’m not cupid, I can’t promise you anything except my complete assurance that with me on your arm no one’s going to be thinking ‘oh poor Jeff’.”  
  
**********************************  
  
Kurt is barely through the door that night when a hand is snaking out to grab him by the tie and drag him inside. Usually the tie is Kurt’s thing but he isn’t really going to complain about the tables turning when his boyfriend is in the middle of jumping his bones.  
  
They’re moving to the bedroom in a flurry of discarded clothing and kisses. They collect bumps and bruises as they knock into furniture and nearly trip over the rug in their blind haste to reach their bed.  
  
“Someone’s eager,” Kurt remarks, his back finally hitting the mattress, Blaine is straddling him not even a second later.  
  
“Like you didn’t know what that text would do to me.” Blaine manages to get out between kisses. “Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” Kurt gasps into his mouth as Blaine rubs his cock through his trousers.  
  
Kurt rolls them over and Blaine pulls Kurt down on top of him, groaning as their groins press together for the first time, neither wanting to break the kiss but keen for some friction.  
  
“You, are wearing far too many clothes Mr. Hummel.”  
  
“Is that right?” Kurt laughs, loosening his tie and nearly choking when Blaine tries to pull it off a little too quickly. “When you’ve finished strangling me, I was going to say that you’re wearing too many clothes yourself.”  
  
Kurt pulls off his sweater and trousers in lightening quick time, much to Blaine’s amusement, stroking his cock leisurely with feigned nonchalance. “Better?”  
  
“Much,” Blaine concurs as the pair of them battle with the buttons on Blaine’s work shirt until his tanned skin is at Kurt’s disposal. Kurt can’t resist licking a stripe up his chest, tasting the salt and sweat of his skin. He likes the way Blaine’s hair tickles and the way his muscles quiver and contract beneath the touch of his tongue.  
  
“Kurt. Please.” He especially loves the way Blaine says please; it’s really one of the prettiest sounds.  
  
Once Blaine’s free of his clothing Kurt crawls back on top of him, both of them relieved to finally get some proper skin on skin contact.  
  
“I love you,” Blaine murmurs as Kurt sucks gently on his collarbone, his hands stroking idly through Kurt’s hair. “Kurt I want you inside me in case.... in case you doubted that.”  
  
Kurt had. He’d wished for this but he had doubted that Blaine would want him this way. It’s one thing to fuck a prostitute, completely another to have them fuck you. Few people in the past have _lowered_ themselves enough to request it. Kurt doesn’t doubt it now though, his heart threatens to burst out of his chest when Blaine looks back at him expectantly, his soulful eyes so full of love and trust. Blaine doesn’t lower himself to be with Kurt, he just _is_ with Kurt, always.  
  
“I love you too” Kurt whispers seriously, before continuing to kiss along Blaine’s shoulder and collar bone, only for Blaine to urge him back up.  
  
“No more foreplay, I need you now,” he tells Kurt almost desperately. “I’ve been sitting here thinking about it, waiting for you. Didn’t even jerk off. I want to come with you inside me.”  
  
“Okay” Kurt gulps because, shit. He fumbles in the bedside drawer for lubricant trying not to pass out from want like some callow youth. “We can definitely arrange that.”  
  
Blaine bends his legs at the knee, opening his long limbs slowly but surely as Kurt coats his fingers with a generous amount of lube. Kurt takes a moment to admire him. He’s so fucking beautiful, and so open and vulnerable right then that he wants to do nothing but kiss him and sew him up- stitch his name all over Blaine’s skin and wear him like a blanket. Which is a really weird thought sure, but he has all sorts of weird sappy thoughts like that when it comes to Blaine…. But he might keep this one out of his sessions with Dr. Shue just the same.  
  
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he murmurs against Blaine’s lips as he trails a finger along his scrotum. His fingers are wet with lube and cold against his flushed skin.  
  
“Kurt, not a virgin remember,” Blaine huffs only to sigh contentedly when Kurt repositions his fingers and the first pushes inside. His eyes flutter shut as Kurt coats his insides with the slippery substance, finding it surprisingly easy to add a second finger after a few moments. That picture right there- the one of Blaine’s eyelashes falling against his cheeks as he shudders and bites his lip- Kurt wants it branded in his memory and playing on loop forever in his memory.  
  
“That’s it baby, open up for me,” he coaxes, not that Blaine seems to need much coaxing; he has started to push back against Kurt’s questing fingers, whining petulantly when Kurt withdraws to add more lube. It probably isn’t necessary but this is neither the time nor the place to be stingy considering Blaine hasn’t bottomed in lord only knows how long.  
  
“Still alright?” Kurt checks as he adds another finger. Blaine nods frantically, but Kurt does catch the slightest of grimaces on his face. It disappears after a split second as he spreads his legs even wider to invite Kurt deeper. Kurt is mesmerized; he doesn’t know how he has gone so long without seeing Blaine like this, how he has lived without hearing that low whine come out of him. Kurt wants to ruin Blaine, watch him come to pieces and make him forget everything but the feel of him inside him.  
  
Blaine makes an incomprehensible and wonderfully wanton sound as Kurt finds his prostate and strokes. His own cock hardens impossibly further as he rubs sensually against that tight bundle of nerves again, drinking in the sounds pouring out of Blaine’s mouth, loving the way Blaine is little more than a quivering wreck.  
  
“Kurt..Kurt please!” he pants, grabbing the lube and pushing it into Kurt’s hand. When Kurt withdraws his fingers, Blaine apparently changes his mind and takes the lube himself, coating Kurt’s cock himself with slow sensual strokes. Kurt leans into him, shivering at the pleasure rolling through him, trying to steady his own breathing- or this will all be over far too soon.  
  
Blaine applies lube to him like he has been paid to worship his cock and that is a very very wonderful experience but if either of them want a chance at finishing this in a way that doesn’t involve coming all over their stomach like a pair of green boys, it’s time he stop. Kurt pushes his hands away, thinking on it momentarily before crawling behind him and rolling them into a classic spooning position.  
  
“This okay?” He pants against Blaine’s shoulder even as he urges him to bend his top leg so that he can slot one of his own between them. This isn’t a position they use very often, although they frequently sleep like this, but Kurt reckons that this will be the easiest on Blaine the first time.  
  
There’s also the advantage that Kurt can see every expression on his face, not to mention the entire length of his naked body in the full length mirror across the room.  
  
“Perfect” Blaine grins, turning his head around for a kiss. While he’s distracted Kurt takes this opportunity to line up and push against his entrance for the first time, feeling the first ring of muscles give way under his ministrations.  
  
Kurt feels rather than hears Blaine hiss against his lips and Blaine’s entire body stiffens slightly. Kurt continues to push in gently yet insistently, knowing that it will be better for Blaine in the long run. He nibbles teasingly on Blaine’s bottom lip, knowing how much he loves that and hopes to distract him from the discomfort.  
  
It’s not necessary to be honest; Blaine’s cock is still at full hardness and he’s making no effort to get Kurt to stop. But Kurt wants him at ease, wants Blaine to love this as much as he’s sure to love it.  
  
“God Kurt,” he groans, panting slightly. “You feel….fuck…amazing. Just give me a minute, forgot what it’s like to feel this full.”  
  
Kurt kisses his sweating brow and strokes Blaine’s stomach as their eyes meet in the mirror. So much love and trust is shared that he almost has to look away, it’s that overwhelming. He’d forgotten all those years what fulfilled wishes, what dreams coming true, could feel like. How they fill a person up.  
  
“Take your time; just remember what it feels like and how good it’s going to be once we start moving. I don’t want to hurt you, couldn’t bear to hurt you ever again.”  
  
“Doesn’t hurt,” Blaine whispers back almost as a reassurance. “I was worried it would after all this time, but it doesn’t. It’s just…..uncomfortable.”  
  
At the assurance that he’s not hurting him, Kurt flexes his hips experimentally, just to see how Blaine reacts. When he doesn’t protest, Kurt does it a second and then a third time until they settle into a slow lazy pace. He’s relieved and overjoyed when Blaine starts to push back after several thrusts, moaning as he clutches at the sheets in front of him.  
  
He whimpers and gasps as Kurt pushes against his prostate again and Kurt loves how tightly Blaine’s body clamps down when his prostate is stimulated. As they continue a plethora of sensations invade Kurt, each one sparking hot in his blood and each one a guide to a place he has always been and yet has been so very far from.  
  
It’s difficult to describe being able to remember the feel of a person, how Blaine is everything familiar and close. He is like the rooms and hallways in Kurt’s childhood home. Kurt could be away forever and come back and recognize every inch of brick and mortar that makes up that house, just as he knows Blaine Anderson.  
  
They could have lain moving together for minutes; it could have been hours, all Kurt knows is that time seems to stand still for them. Then Blaine reaches blindly for his hand, his eyes closed and his head thrown back in pleasure. Kurt’s breathe stutters as Blaine guides Kurt’s hand to his dripping cock. They lock fingers as they pump his cock, a joint effort, a partnership of wants as they move together to a beat of slapping skin.  
  
“Look at you,” Kurt whispers hoarsely into his ear and Blaine’s eyes open slowly to share Kurt’s gaze in the mirror. “You take it so well. Christ you’re so gorgeous like this.” Blaine gasps breathlessly as Kurt speeds the tugs on his cock.  
  
“Come with me,” Blaine chokes out and he grips Kurt like a vice as he comes, but it’s not that that makes Kurt almost instantly follow suit, it’s the look of carnal pleasure on Blaine’s face as he spills over their joined hands. It’s one of the hottest things he has ever seen and more than enough stimulation to tip Kurt over the edge.  
  
Kurt cradles Blaine closely against his chest as the remnants of their orgasms wash over them, their breathing coming in short and shallow pants. Beneath his hand Kurt can feel Blaine’s heart racing and he’s sure Blaine can feel his doing the same against his back.  
  
“I dreamed about this,” he admits softly against Blaine’s shoulder his mind in a darkened room long ago, his mother pulling his covers up to his chin.  
  
 _“A wish for a kiss. What are you wishing for baby?”  
  
“I want to meet my best friend this year.” _  
  
A best friend, someone to play with, someone to laugh with, someone to truly understand him and share in his burdens. Kurt has wished for this since he was a boy. He has dreamed about this. Not all dreams come true. But for those with the fortitude to keep trying, and the sheer audacity to keep hoping- some in fact do, and it truly is just enough.  
  
“I dreamed about meeting someone like you.” Kurt kisses his shoulder and Blaine hugs the arms Kurt has wrapped around him.  
  
“Me too, and then you stopped me in a hallway and it’s like you became the dream. Is that silly?”  
  
“Maybe” Kurt shrugs, grinning against Blaine’s skin. He definitely feels silly, silly in the best sort of way. “You know what the poets say. Love often is.”


	23. The last.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt's last day as an escort.

In the Western world society has always made a big deal out of firsts. As a child your parents wait for and cherish your first word, the first time you walk and your first day at school. As an adolescent there’s your first crush, your first kiss and the first time you have sex. When you’re an adult there’s your first real job, your first home and maybe even your first child.  
  
So much is made of all the firsts you experience in your life that it’s easy to forget that often it’s the lasts that are most important- the last of your finals before graduation, the last night before high school or college officially ends, the last song before the curtain closes. Lasts can be just as momentous as firsts and Kurt is about to experience the last to end all lasts.  
  
“It’s your last day. Call in sick and snuggle.” Blaine whines, wincing as Kurt opens the curtains to let some light in. “It’s a Saturday; no decent human being works on a Saturday.”  
  
“Plenty of decent people work on Saturdays Blaine,” Kurt retorts somewhat distracted, as he continues his preparations for the day. “But you can stay in bed if you like. It will save us time when I get back. Remember that after tomorrow we have to be responsible godparents so your sole responsibility this weekend is providing me with orgasms.”  
  
Blaine tosses a pillow at him petulantly. “I’m tired and cranky, you’re not supposed to tease me!”  
  
“Poor baby, I’m so horrible to you aren’t I?” Kurt smiles, bending down for a quick morning kiss before grabbing the two shirts he has already preselected, holding them up against himself. “Which one?”  
  
“The white one,” Blaine answers almost immediately. “It’s sheer enough that when you stand just right in the light you can almost see through it.”  
  
“Wonderful,” Kurt responds dryly. “Did you think half naked was the look I was going for here or....”  
  
“I said _almost_ see through, not see through. There’s a difference you know. Almost see through you just get that enticing shadow. You know, the barest glimpse of everything you can’t have? It’s really sexy. I love that shirt on you. But if you really did want to go half naked, you could just go as you are.”  
  
“The barest glimpse of shadows huh?” Kurt retorts, unimpressed. “How about no. And no I’m not going to a wedding in just my pants!”  
  
“Their loss. What on earth are you doing at the wedding anyway?” Blaine yawns as he stretches and pops his back.  
  
“Oh, the client recently split up with his boyfriend, who incidentally is now with someone else,” Kurt explains offhand as he pulls on the shirt. Maybe he was a bit more impressed by Blaine’s reasoning than he let on. “So basically I get to pretend to be a couple with this guy to make a friend of his happy and make his ex, jealous. Simple stuff like that.”  
  
“Urgh, dating politics” Blaine grimaces in disdain. “I’m glad we’re back together Kurt, frankly if I never have to make an ass of myself in the ‘will we won’t we game’ I’ll die a happy man.”  
  
“Are you kidding? That was the best stage of our lives. We did so well at it and everything,” Kurt pouts as he kneels up on the bed, allowing Blaine to wrap his arms around his neck. “Hopefully there are other reasons too why you’re glad we’re together?”  
  
“Well, your hot body is a plus as well” Blaine teases, nuzzling that sensitive spot on Kurt’s neck that Kurt is sure will be his undoing until he’s cold in his grave.  
  
“Well there you have it. Prose to make a guy swoon,” Kurt teases back, kissing Blaine briefly before noticing the time and regretfully pulling away. “You can have this hot body all to yourself later. I need to finish getting ready and grab some breakfast.”  
  
Kurt hears Blaine mumble something grumpily behind him as he leaves the bedroom and heads to the kitchen, makes himself some breakfast. He begins to eat while leaning against the breakfast bar to peruse the morning paper and a few minutes later Blaine plods in after him.  
  
Kurt watches him with amusement. He’s given up being bemused at himself for the tenderness Blaine brings out in him. Isn’t that what love is all about? Two people helping make each other better. Everyone always seems to be saying trite things like that. Blaine looks adorably rumpled when he has just woken up, his hair sticking out in all directions and his eyes bleary. He has no problem admitting the fact that one of his favorite things about the morning is watching Blaine shake off sleep.  
  
“Hi again sleepy head,” Kurt smiles cheerfully as Blaine walks up and settles against him, content to watch Kurt eat in silence and opening his mouth when Kurt silently offers him a forkful of breakfast potatoes. Together they finish off the remnants of his breakfast and once the plate is emptied and dishwasher bound Blaine wraps his arms around Kurt’s waist and rests his head tiredly against his shoulder. There is minimal talking throughout this whole interaction, as Blaine still doesn’t want to be awake enough for that, but neither of them really needs words for a conversation.  
  
As Kurt finishes washing what dishes are in the sink Blaine releases a small sound of contentment and burrows closer to him, placing tiny kisses along his collar bone.  
  
“I do have to get out of here soon,” Kurt reminds him gently, seeing exactly where this is headed. “I have to finish getting ready.”  
  
He protests but it’s more of a nod to responsibility than any attempt to _actually_ be responsible. He makes no attempt to stop Blaine despite the words. Blaine feels too good and Kurt rarely really wants to say no to him. Truthfully Kurt loves the way they touch each other, loves that Blaine was touching him with love and care long before they were lovers and all through the in between.  
  
Blaine pops open the button on Kurt’s dress pants- and maybe they spend too much time undressing each other because Blaine is way too quick at getting his pants around his knees- and Kurt goes to smack his hands away. Blaine, undeterred, goes to pull his underwear down his legs and the look he gives Kurt is so hungry and insistent that it makes Kurt’s knees feel a little weak and his throat go dry.  
  
“There’s no time,” he reminds them both, just so he can say later that he did, as Blaine gets both trousers and underwear pooling around his feet. He smiles in satisfaction and does heed Kurt’s warnings whatsoever.  
  
He sinks to his knees and the sight of him alone is enough for Kurt’s words of complaint to dissolve in his throat. He closes his eyes and leans back on the bar as Blaine mouths him gently, the lazy pace a direct contrast to the need in his eyes and the firm press of his hand against Kurt’s hip. One… two… three, delicious barely there not enough friction kitten licks and then Blaine takes the head between his lips and the rush of warm wet and wonderful has Kurt slumping back into the bar with a groan. And then-  
  
“You’re probably right,” Blaine decides suddenly, pulling off Kurt with a wet pop, laughing at his look of indignation. “You’re gonna be late and if you’re late Jeff and the others will be late.”  
  
“You don’t think you could have thought of that before you started sucking my cock?” Kurt asks incredulously, his heart sinking as Blaine shakes his head with an amused grin. “Answer wisely Anderson. I’m considering strangling you and dumping your body in the Hudson.”  
  
“I just wanted to give you something to remind you of what’s waiting for you at home,” Blaine replies, wisely getting up and out of Kurt’s line of fire. Kurt tries to swat him with the newspaper he’d set aside earlier but only manages to catch his shoulder as he flees.  
  
“You’re an asshole.There will be retribution for this,” Kurt grumbles, pulling his pants back on- never fun when you’re as hard as Kurt is. He kinda hates Blaine sometimes. He hates him even more a second later.  
  
No sooner has he managed to zip up and get buttoned then Blaine pinches him painfully on the inside of his thigh. Kurt yelps and dances away from him with a glare.  
  
“Ouch. Jesus! What the hell?!”  
  
“I read somewhere that the pain is supposed to help get rid of an unwanted erection,” Blaine explains through barely contained giggles. Kurt is torn between throwing something at him and pinning him to the counter and punishing him in a _different_ way. If only he had more time and the latter weren’t such a reward. You don’t give a poorly trained puppy treats. Everyone knows that.  
  
“I don’t like you right now,” Kurt declares, turning away from him with as much coldness as he can muster against Blaine’s warm playful eyes. “I’m leaving before I have something in common with your ex and brain you over the head with something heavy.”  
  
“Kurt are you mad?” Blaine asks. No not really but Blaine doesn’t get to know that. He arches a brow at him and sweeps out of the kitchen.  
  
“I was just playing!” Blaine follows quickly behind him. “Don’t be mad Kurt.”  
  
“No, no, you get out. Shoo.” Kurt bars Blaine from entering the bedroom behind him. He really does have to finish getting ready and Blaine deserves to sweat a little after the stunt he just pulled.  
  
When he’s appropriately accessorized and buttoned up he leaves the bedroom and finds Blaine waiting by the front door with his coffee mug. He extends the mug like a peace offering, a hopeful little smile on his face that Kurt would kiss if it wouldn’t just encourage further bad behavior.  
  
“Oh so we’re sorry now are we?” He asks and Blaine attempts to nod solemnly. It would be convincing but for the grin he keeps biting back.  
  
“Bull shit Anderson, but I’ll pretend like I believe it,” Kurt replies, accepting the coffee and taking a small sip, satisfied when he confirms it’s prepared just the way he likes. “Well how do I look?” He opens his arms and does a quick twirl for affect.  
  
“Too good to be real, as always” Blaine nods appreciatively reaching for the hand not currently occupied holding a coffee mug. “Go knock ‘em dead and turn some heads. And then Kurt, come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you.”  
  
Kurt smiles tenderly at him. Blaine may not realize it, to him they might just be sweet words he’s sing songing, but on today of all days they mean more than he could ever know.  
  
This is the last time Kurt will walk out the door to be something other than himself, his last evening of pretending to be anything other than the man he is right now standing in front of the man he loves. They have come farther than anyone could have expected; so much of it was done poorly, so much of it shouldn’t have been done at all and yet here they stand happy and whole.  
  
“Blaine. You are....” Kurt tilts his head down pressing his lips softly against his because there really aren’t words for what Blaine is. What _they_ are together. “I love you.” Sometimes that’s all that a person can say.  
  
It’s what they always say to each other before they go out to work, when they see each other again, during sex, before they sleep and when they wake. They say it so much partly because it’s new, they are newly wedded of heart sans ceremony, and when it’s new it’s the perfect thing to say and, for now at least, neither of them can forget the importance of saying it.  
  
Maybe one day they will. Maybe there will come a time when they are busy, when trials and familiarity have dulled their awareness of each other, when neither of them can really remember this feeling and wonder how to get it back. This is a fear of Kurt’s, a fear that like all others must simply be faced when the time comes. For now he kisses Blaine as if kisses alone could forever banish such dark prospects; with kisses like that there’s a good chance he’s right.  
  
*************************  
  
Okay, there is no denying it now, Kurt’s mellowing in his old age. He’s well on his way to being as much of a hopeless romantic as Blaine is. Or maybe he always was and his ice is melting, who knows. All Kurt knows is that even he, a self-confessed cynic at the wedding of two men he has never met in his life, found himself welling up as the service progressed. Who’d have thought?  
  
“That was a really beautiful service,” Jeff comments as they mill around the cocktail reception hand in hand. This is a strange last day of work. For one thing there’s Jean Sylvester who first thing upon meeting him refuses to so much as budge until Kurt tells her who he is and why he’s there with Jeff.  
  
Going along with the whole charade Kurt had introduced himself as Jeff’s date, expecting the older woman to be pleased. She’d appeared confused at first and then she’d actually glared at him and refused to get in the car with them until he had admitted that he and Jeff were just ‘friends’ and that he was only doing him a favor by being his date.  
  
“You’re not boyfriends?” Jean had asked with such hope that Kurt felt like a jerk for even being there and Jeff flushed.  
  
“Nah Jean. I just asked Kurt to come so I would have a date,” Jeff had said and Jean had nodded, these answers seeming to satisfy her.  
  
So much for Kurt granting her wishes, he couldn’t convince her Jeff was happy elsewhere and he wasn’t going to magically make this Nick person ditch his new boyfriend so things were off to a _great_ start.  
  
Then there’s Jeff himself; a naturally likeable guy. Funny, energetic and optimistic in that summer camp way that most people grow out of by the time they’re post grads. You’d have to be made of stone not to get a little teary at how sweet he is with Jean and the other disabled adults in his care. Kurt certainly isn’t so he’s endeared to Jeff from the beginning for that alone.  
  
Jeff’s only faults are no real taste in clothing, an appalling haircut, and sheer obliviousness of the amount of times he talks about this Nick guy. For someone Kurt hasn’t even been introduced to yet he sure feels like he knows the man with the amount Jeff goes on about him.  
  
“It was,” he concurs. “It’s so strange. I plan weddings for a living now and I’ve never really been a fan of marriage, but then you see two people so in love and you think that only a few years ago they could never have done this. It’s moving.”  
  
“Have you and- Blaine, right? Have you and Blaine talked about it?”  
  
“Not really. I mean sure we talk about marriage in general, but like I said before I used to be very against it. Blaine’s more of a traditionalist but he knows my views so I think it’s just sort of something he has compromised. We don’t need to. Excusing the legal benefits it really doesn’t change much whether we get married or not,” Kurt explains. He purses his lips and looks over at the happy couple surrounded by friends and supporters and smiles to himself.  
  
“But then again people change. I plan weddings now for god’s sake. I’m not saying I want a June wedding or anything, just that I’m not as repelled by the idea as I used to be.”  
  
“You’ve got it bad, haven’t you? My bets are on that June wedding,” Jeff teases him playfully.  
  
“Oh god, am I really that bad?” Kurt asks, because it’s one thing to admit it to himself that he is becoming as soft as a plush pillow, entirely another to be obvious about it.  
  
“You get this look on your face when you talk about him.” Jeff’s smile fades a little as he stares into his drink. “Nick used get like that too about stuff he was in to…. whatever. So how long have you guys been together?” Jeff’s somber tone seems to disappear as quickly as it came. Jeff’s moods Kurt decides are like a partly cloudy forecast, never dark for too long.  
  
“Just over five months now,” Kurt answers. “And then six months a few year ago. We broke up, got separate apartments, I started escorting for a living and he was even engaged at one point. But I guess....I guess both of us knew what we really wanted. It’s stupid how you can realize how much you love someone only when they’re not yours to love anymore, isn’t it?”  
  
Kurt feels a touch guilty as Jeff looks away with a melancholy frown only to quickly plaster on a fake grin when he sees some friends approaching. They regard Kurt a little suspiciously when Jeff introduces him as his date, prompting Kurt to pull a surprised Jeff into a brief but intimate hug. Display is the first rule of escorting after all.  
  
“If you love someone,” Kurt murmurs against his ear so that only the two of them can hear. “Then it’s never truly over. Not really.”  
  
Jeff seems a lot more settled as they move through to the ball room for the wedding breakfast. His friends don’t appear to doubt that Kurt is his new boyfriend despite having never met Kurt before and Kurt finds them all to be rather fun and interesting people (if somewhat uptight). Jeff’s smile falters however as they read the seating chart.  
  
“I don’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “They’ve seated us at the same table! That’s all I need, watching Nick being all gooey eyed with his new boyfriend. Christ, what were they _thinking_?”  
  
Kurt isn’t all that surprised. Kurt knows for a fact Jean has been flitting around whispering in the two grooms ears, and never mind Jean, Kurt wouldn’t put it past Sue to threaten Nick’s uncle with all sorts of mayhem if he didn’t seat Jeff and his nephew at the same table.  
  
“Oh god they’re coming this way,” Jeff groans, looking away as another couple enters the ballroom. Kurt squeezes his hand reassuringly, looking over his shoulder at the approaching couple. He does a truly comical double take when he sees who it is that Nick has on his arm. He knows exactly which one is Nick because he knows that his _boyfriend_ is not a guitarist in a band or any of the other things Nick told Jeff.  
  
No. It can’t be; this has _got_ to be some sort of sick joke. Sue would never….. Okay maybe she would, but what the hell is her angle?  
  
Kurt turns back to look at the seating plan, locating his and Jeff’s names in the elegant calligraphy at table six. He scans through four names he doesn’t recognize until he finds what he’s looking for.  
  
 _Mr. Jeffrey Prinny  
  
Mr. Kurt Hummel  
  
Mr. Nicholas Borski  
  
Mr. Jacob St. Night_  
  
Every time Kurt hears Jake’s ‘last name’ he has to snort because _seriously_. Does he imagine they’re in some ladies bodice ripper?  
  
Kurt turns around again as the couple gets closer, hoping against hope that the name is just a mighty big coincidence. Sometimes it’s difficult to get through a 30 minute meeting without throttling Jake; if he can get through the rest of this reception sitting with Jake the snake then he has got more restraint than he ever thought he had.  
  
Now that they’re in clear view Kurt can see once and for all that life does in fact enjoy fucking with him for no apparent reason. Nick’s ‘date’ is indeed his nemesis, and Jake’s face drops as soon as he sees Kurt.  
  
Well, evidently Nick isn’t as over Jeff as he’s making out and sought to save face the same way Nick had. Kurt has to roll his eyes to the ceiling at that because it’s _really_ stupid, not to mention frustrating for Kurt because he can’t out Nick. He might hate Jake’s guts but it’s just bad form to out another escort on the job.  
  
“Oh hey, Jeff, you’re here.” Nick says like no one saw that Jeff was about the only thing in the room he’d had eyes for since entering it. “It’s good to see you.”  
  
Kurt needs another drink.  
  
Nick smiles holding out his hand and it seems a bit too cold and clinical considering that they were best friends once. Kurt feels Jeff tense at the gesture, apparently he feels the same, but he takes Nick’s hand tersely regardless.  
  
“And this is my new boyfriend, Jake” Nick lies, gesturing to the man in question. Kurt cringes as Jake and Nick shake, realizing he’s going to have to make bodily contact with the slimy toad.  
  
“Nice to meet you, this is my boyfriend, Kurt,” Jeff replies.  
  
“Kurt? What an…..interesting name.” Jake offers Kurt a sickly sweet smile as he shakes his hand, the same smile Kurt has seen countless times before. It’s enough to make him want to punch the pasty blond in the face- and he is not a violent person!  
  
“Interesting is true, that’s me all over.” Kurt smiles back, sharp enough he’s surprised it doesn’t actually cut Jake. Jeff and Nick share a bewildered look at the cold atmosphere between the two apparent strangers.  
  
“So…….shall we take our seats?” Jeff asks suddenly, pulling Kurt away insistently as Nick does the same to Jake. Probably a wise move on their parts, the traditional wedding fight doesn’t happen until _after_ the toasts. Thankfully Jake and Kurt aren’t sat next to each other, but they are sat opposite each other meaning that Jake’s the first thing Kurt sees when he looks up from his food, wonderful.  
  
Despite their bad break up the conversation flows easily between Jeff, Nick, and the rest of the table. They are obviously all part of the same large friendship group. As a result no one pays Jake or Kurt any attention, which is lucky as they both find it a struggle to be in each other’s company without snipping at each other like school children.  
  
After a chorus of raucous laughter at some memory that they all share the table falls into a comfortable silence as people finish off their main courses. Jake of course has got to ruin it all.  
  
“So, Kurt,” he starts, and Kurt can’t help but presume that he would say the phrase ‘old lady’s vagina’ with less disdain than he has just said Kurt’s name.  
“How long have you two been together?”  
  
“Just a month or so,” Kurt answers on cue. He and Jeff had decided that a month would be the ideal length of time since they wouldn’t be expected to know that much about each other and enough time would have passed between Nick and Jeff breaking up that it wouldn’t look like Jeff was on the rebound, even though it’s painstakingly obvious that Jeff is about as over Nick as he’s likely to win the lottery. The fact that Nick lied to Jeff about seeing someone new and also hired an escort suggests that he hasn’t exactly moved on himself.  
  
God, and he’d thought he and Blaine were idiots.  
  
“Same here,” Jake smiles sweetly. “And what is it that you do?”  
  
“I’m a wedding coordinator for Anderson and Anderson Brides over in Dobbs Ferry. It’s very rewarding work,” Kurt answers with more than a hint of smugness.  
  
“Really?” Jake replies dryly, his tone slightly bored, turning to Nick and placing a hand on the dark haired man’s shoulder. “Nicky’s an _amazing_ writer, in fact he’s an award winning journalist.”  
  
“Wow that’s quite impressive,” Kurt responds briskly. “Jeff here is being considered for the role of senior care giver over at Halmark.”  
  
“Good for you,” Jake smirks at Jeff before returning his attentions to Kurt. “Nicky graduated in the top three of his class and is currently completing a part time masters in history, specializing in the early reign of Henry VIII.”  
  
“Jeff is getting his MSW in counseling and would love to do some more studying in psychology, wouldn’t you darling? But sadly with his career it isn’t possible, especially with his charity work. Did you know Jeff spent time last summer in Uganda working in displacement camps?”  
  
“My Nick believes that charity begins at home,” Jake replies with a bite.  
  
You might be appalled at this behavior but this is the thing with them, always in competition, and Kurt _always_ lets that edge get the better of him when it comes to Jake.  
  
“So does my Jeff, his work is his life.”  
  
“In his spare time Nicky coaches a ladies football team in Queens.”  
  
“Oh Jeff loves sports, in fact his brother is a professional tennis player.” Kurt smiles triumphantly as Jake opens his mouth, falls short, and glares at him. It’s a good thing he and Jeff rehearsed, although Jeff probably never envisioned _this_ happening. Jeff, and everyone else at the table for that matter, looks mildly confused. It’s supposed to be the ex-couple trying to point score, not the new boyfriends.  
  
“I love tennis!” A fellow member of the table (Kenwick or Kendrick or something like that) puts in. “At one point I wanted to turn pro myself, but I got this serious shoulder injury and-”  
  
“Poor you,” Jake interrupts, not even looking at the man; if he had he would have been subjected to a look of both shock and annoyance. “Nick devotes time to the arts as well as athletics. He was the lead soloist of his high school glee club.”  
  
“What the hell is going on?” Kurt hears Jeff whisper furiously to the young man next to him (Trent Kurt thinks) who just shrugs helplessly.  
  
“Jeff volunteered at Calington Residential home as part of his research in how young people live with cerebral palsy, and has even helped several former residents find accommodation and live independently.”  
  
“Nick dances!”  
  
“Oh please. What is he a ballerina too?” Kurt whispers harshly under his breath as he leans across the table towards Jake.  
  
“Fuck you _Kurt_! The only way someone like him would go for the likes of you is in fucking Narnia!”  
  
This time Nick grabs Jake harshly by the bicep, pulling him close to mutter something in his ear that Kurt and just about everyone else can still make out.  
  
“Just chill will you! What they hell are you doing?!”  
  
Then he looks at Jeff apologetically, and they share a look, as if they don’t need words to speak, as if no one else was there. Kurt has seen that look before; it’s the way Blaine used to look at him, and probably how Kurt looked right back. It’s a language reserved just for the two of them.  
  
If they’re anything like Blaine and Kurt were this look means nothing and everything all at once. It’s a _what are we doing,_ a _please still love me_.  
  
Oh brother. Kurt decides after a moment more of watching Jeff and Nick respectively drowning in the shallow end without enough sense to stand up that, screw it all, he might as well throw them some floaties.  
  
“I need to talk to you,” Kurt says to Jeff, standing up abruptly and pulling the bewildered man out of his chair and towards the door. In the reflection of the window Kurt can see that the rest of the table is equally baffled. Jake has a face like thunder but most noticeable is Nick, his eyes following Jeff miserably like a kicked dog.  
  
“What’s going on?” Jeff asks breathlessly once they’re in the empty bathroom. “Kurt?”  
  
“He still loves you.” Kurt gets straight to the point.  
  
“What?!” Jeff asks incredulously. This wedding must be getting weirder and weirder for him. “Nah, Kurt you’ve got it wrong. I was the one who ended things but he told me that if I hadn’t finished it first then he would have done it himself.”  
  
“That doesn’t mean anything; people say things that aren’t true when they’re hurting. They can even convince themselves that they believe it.” Kurt’s kind of an expert in that area. Remember the whole ‘I’m so pleased that you’re marrying that vitriol spewing asshole’ debacle?  
  
“How can you be so sure?” Jeff asks doubtfully, rubbing his eyes tiredly and leaning against the wall.  
  
“I know real love when I see it,” Kurt begins to explain. “I’ve known a lot of men and seen a lot of looks, and I’m telling you that that guy back there looks at you like he might go blind if he looks away. He’s so smitten with you it’s pathetic to watch.”  
  
Jeff looks away for a moment as he considers this, shaking his head and laughing slightly.  
  
“For someone who’s still smitten he found some other guy real quick.”  
  
Kurt curses under his breath, wondering briefly how best to handle this. Revealing that someone’s ‘boyfriend’ is an escort is strictly a no-no; the client could be humiliated and demand a full refund, not to mention shun and bad mouth the agency and maybe even seek revenge. Nick doesn’t seem the type to do any of those things though.  
  
Screw it. Today is his last ever appointment. What’s Sue going to do, fire him? Besides she had to know no good would come of putting him and Jake on the same assignment. She had to know things would go to pieces. Maybe she even wanted them to.  
  
Maybe it’s something to do with getting back together with Blaine (in fact he knows it is) but lately Kurt has been championing love and relationships like he’s freaking cupid. He may have only known these two men for a few hours but it’s clear they want to be together so they should just go ahead and do it. It’s not rocket science.  
  
“Look, Nick isn’t moved on or whatever, Jake’s an escort too,” Kurt admits in a rush, sighing at how messy this all is. Why _is_ this so complicated? He doesn’t feel like he and Blaine were this complicated....  
  
Okay maybe they were. Never mind that.  
  
“He is?” Jeff asks softly with a ghost of a smile. “Why would Nick hire an escort?”  
  
“The same reason you did.”  
  
Kurt sighs in frustration again as Jeff shakes his head in disbelief. “How do you know that he hired Jake and they’re not a genuine couple? I mean you’ve got Blaine, right?”  
  
“I know Jake; I’ve known him for four years. He doesn’t do relationships, especially not with men. He _hates_ men, he only sleeps with them because he makes more money than sleeping with women. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘go gay for pay’? That’s Jake.”  
  
“God,” Jeff whispers almost to himself. “So that explains that whacked out exchange over dinner.” Kurt flushes sheepishly but nods.  
  
“We’re both from cheerios; we’re not exactly best friends. Sorry about earlier. I’m kind of embarrassed about it now.”  
  
“If Nick...I mean it just doesn’t make any sense. _He_ was the one who said he had a date first, said he was happy with a new guy. If he wanted to get back together then he should have just said something. Why’d he lie?”  
  
“I don’t know. I’m not Nick. Maybe he doesn’t think he has a chance. You said it yourself that you’re the one who ended it.”  
  
When Jeff doesn’t say anything Kurt decides to make a risky move. He doesn’t have anything to hit Jeff over the head with but he is not about to give up without putting all his cards on the table. He pushes Jeff up against the mirror and leans in close to him.  
  
“Kurt what are you-”  
  
“If you’re over Nick, then prove it” he whispers huskily in challenge. “Stop moping around in denial. If you’re over him walk out there with me where Nick and everyone else can see and kiss me like you mean it, like you’ve got nothing to lose. Because according to you you don’t. So come on let’s do it.”  
  
“No!”  
  
Kurt withdraws immediately at the order coming not from one voice but two. Both men turn and look around to the bathroom door to see Nick standing there breathlessly like he ran all the way to the men’s room.  
  
“Don’t Jeff. He’s right about what he said.”  
  
“You were eavesdropping?” Jeff asks quietly, his body tense. If Kurt could get away with just banging their heads together…..  
  
“No, I just overheard the last part,” Nick explains fidgeting in the doorway like he’s unsure if he should come closer or turn around and leave.  
  
“I’m sorry I lied to you Jeff.” Nick takes a deep breath and lets it out in a woosh of words. “When I ran into you the other day and you just looked so _happy_ without me, I made up a bunch of shit that I never should have and I’m sorry. I should have just told you that you’re my best friend and I fucked everything up with you. You were right to end things when you did. When Jean asked me if you were going into the bathroom to kiss your boyfriend I just felt sick. I wanna be your boyfriend. There I said it. I want to be your boyfriend Jeff and I don’t care what anyone says about it and it doesn’t matter that I’ve never liked another boy before you.”  
  
“Really?” Jeff asks almost non-audibly, both terror and hope written all over his face.  
  
“Really,” Nick confirms with an earnest if tremulous smile, closing the gap between them until he is near enough to run his index finger tentatively down Jeff’s cheek, buoyed by the fact that he doesn’t flinch away. “You’re the first man I’ve ever loved, and now that I do....now that I do, I hope that you’re the last.”  
  
Well then. Kurt knows when his presence is neither needed nor appreciated, so it’s time he made himself scarce. He hasn't even fully closed the bathroom door before he hears a groan and the telltale thunk of a skull banging against a the mirror. He rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he exits, but he has to smile a little.  
  
And the tiny woman waiting outside the bathroom, she’s smiling too as she slips her hand in his and they walk back towards the ball room.  
  
Fifteen minutes later Jeff and Nick return, walking casually side by side both beaming despite looking ridiculously disheveled. Considering that this reception is largely made up of gay men Kurt doubts that there’s a single person here who doesn’t know what they’ve been up to, but both appear to be trying to play it cool. They’re failing.  
  
“Hi,” Kurt says evenly as they approach his seat.  
  
“We had a talk and worked some things out.” Jeff beams, and Kurt can’t help but laugh. _Talking_ oh so that’s what they’re calling it these days.  
  
“Yeah, we were both kind of stupid before,” Nick adds in, his megawatt smile matching Jeff’s. “We’ve got like a ton of stuff to work out, but we’re both determined not to mess things up this time.”  
  
Now there are three of them grinning like idiots. Their heartfelt words ring so true with Kurt, almost identical to those that he and Blaine shared. That’s just love maybe. You feel it, and you work your best at it. What else is there to do? Kurt just hopes that they can learn from their mistakes and be happy now. Something tells him though that they’re going to be fine.  
  
“So Nick is gonna help me get Jean and the others home if you want to take off early,” Jeff says, his arms swinging like he doesn’t know quite what to do with them and his face flushing. “I know you probably want to get home to your boyfriend and all. Nick and I would slip away if it weren’t for Jean and...and we didn’t think people would notice.”  
  
There’s a wistfulness to Jeff’s tone like maybe he’d like to do something daring like take Nick’s hand and slip away, not caring who noticed them or what they thought about it. Nick looks at Jeff flushing and moving his hands awkwardly as he talks and frowns slightly.  
  
“In my experience at weddings the happy couple aren’t interested in anyone but each other so I’m sure you’ll be fine.” It looks like Kurt’s advice though has fallen on deaf ears because as he talks Nick reaches for Jeff’s hand and Jeff jumps like Nick just bit him and stares at their intertwined fingers like he has never seen anything like it before.  
  
Both men look around shyly, noting all the people _not_ paying them any attention and then smile at each other like they are the only two people in the world. Jeff gets this grin on his face, like this is his birthday and Christmas all rolled into one. He kisses Nick, the sort that you can only appreciate when you’ve been parted from the one you love, whether it be for five days or five years. Evidently it’s not just the newlyweds who aren’t interested in anyone but each other.  
  
“I’m sorry, what?” Jeff asks once they manage to pull away from each other. Kurt waves his hand, indicating that it was nothing important.  
  
“I’m really happy for you both. Go, be merry.” He smiles warmly at the two men in front of him, more than just a little bit pleased with himself.  
  
“You wanna go tell the guys we’re boyfriends now?” Nick asks Jeff with feigned nonchalance, and Jeff gets impossibly brighter.  
  
“Sure. And you just know that Thad won the betting pool. He has been asking me all month who I was taking tonight,” Jeff answers as the two of them laugh at what Kurt can only presume is a private joke.  
  
Kurt watches the two men disappear into a crowd of their friends. And that’s his last client.  
  
That’s it.  
  
“Where the hell are they going?!”  
  
Okay, that’s almost it. He still needs to deal with Jake.  
  
Striving for more patience and decorum than he’s previously shown with Jake, Kurt turns to him; he’s on such a natural high that even Jake can’t bring down his mood.  
“They’re back together; we’re no longer of use.”  
  
“You had to do it, didn’t you?” The other escort answers in annoyance, throwing his hands up in the air. “Good old Porcelain comes riding in like a knight in shining armor to reunite the estranged couple.”  
  
“Give me a break Jake, surely not even you can find something to whine over about _that_. Look at that, they’re as cute as baby penguins.” Kurt tries to reason with him, he doesn’t do it very often so Jake should be grateful. His sour face however tells Kurt that he is not.  
  
“It’s alright for you,” he mutters under his breath. “But he was my only chance at having sex tonight.”  
  
Kurt rolls his eyes in exasperation for what feels like the millionth time, downing the rest of his drink in one go and wiping his mouth daintily with a napkin. “Then may I suggest finding yourself a girlfriend? Go to a bar, pick someone up, whatever. If you’re not interested in doing it the normal way I can recommend a decent agency, although as of five minutes ago they just lost their best boy.”  
  
And that feels incredibly good to say. Kurt is grinning so broadly he probably looks like an idiot. Jake will probably say so, but Kurt really can’t care less.  
  
Instead of one of his usual sarcastic retorts, Jake just looks at Kurt almost whimsically, regarding him very carefully with his piercing eyes.  
  
“So this is it?”  
  
Kurt looks around him at the different people filling the hall: the new couples, the newlyweds, the singles, the closet cases, the ones with demons to fight and the poor souls suffering a break up. He sees the people looking for nothing more than a bit of fun, those having an affair, and of course those long term couples probably no longer in love but still couldn’t do without the other. Then there are the rare few that have found lasting love. Kurt realizes he’s had a taste of them all, and it’s the last one...yeah that last one. It really hits the spot.  
  
“Yeah,” he answers with a small smile; now it’s finally here, the end. “No more Porcelain.”  
  
“Right,” Jake nods in agreement. “How am I going to keep my game up now? No one else to compete with.”  
  
“I’m sure you’ll find someone else,” Kurt tells him in some sort of wacky reassurance. “This is the oldest profession in the world Jake. One thing the universe will never be short of is prostitutes. A bit sad isn’t it?”  
  
“You gonna give me the big ‘you could do better’ speech? Please don’t. I find it nauseating,” Jake replies snootily.  
  
“I would if I thought you’d listen.” Kurt shrugs. “It’s a shame really. You have such potential Jake.”  
  
“Really? The great Porcelain Ward thinks _I_ have potential?” Jake laughs genuinely. “I’m not looking for a change of business, Kurt. Are you kidding me? With you gone and Brian disappearing off the face of the earth, I'm the top dog at Cheerio’s now.”  
  
Kurt of course knows exactly where Brian has disappeared off to and his smile fades. Sue knows too of course, and she has fired him which is about the nicest thing she has ever done for the poor guy.  
  
Aaron left the hospital and went into rehab as he’d been planning before his dealer decided he didn’t like that idea, and last Kurt heard from Alex he is still refusing visits from him. Kurt gets why it might be hard for Aaron to face Alex on top of trying to get a handle on everything else, but he knows how hard that has to be on both of them.  
  
It’s not so simple as finding each other again. Kurt’s two friends have a tough road ahead of them if they think to repair their relationship. If it can even be repaired, it’s quite possible that it can’t be. Kurt hurts for them both, grieves for everything they both might have had, but it’s more important for Aaron to learn to live for Aaron and for Alex to continue doing the same for himself. After that, well....  
  
Kurt has come to believe that love finds a way.  
  
Love if it’s real, doesn’t fade after all, but you can bury it, you can trash it and you can even break it. What you do with love when you’re lucky enough to get it is all up to you. Love left alone however lingers like an echo. It’s a spark hidden in the coals. That is more than enough spark to make a fire when a fire needs making.  
  
Life is like that. It can be dark and cold but there is never a moment without some hope if one is willing to take the time to dig through the ashes.  
  
“Well then I hope it makes you happy Jake,” Kurt tells him seriously. “Bye Jake.”  
  
“Goodbye,” Jake says equally serious, and if Kurt’s not very much mistaken there’s a hint of regret on his face. He himself feels strangely nostalgic. He holds out his hand in truce, which Jake takes gladly, laughing and shaking his head at the surrealism of it all. “This is weird. Good luck with everything. Take care of yourself, Kurt.”  
  
“And you,” Kurt replies with a real smile, before turning away and heading for the door. Kurt pauses a moment and turns to add in parting, “Jake, if you ever find yourself _not_ happy you’ve got my number.”  
  
“Bitch,” Kurt hears him scoff darkly. If anything this makes Kurt smile even more. Some things never change.  
  
Except of course people. People are always changing.  
  
*******************************  
  
As Kurt arrives back at his building that night he sees a man struggling with an archive box walking through the reception, and it’s only as he opens the door for him that Kurt realizes that the man is in fact Jeremiah.  
  
The box in question contains all the things that he had left with Blaine and has never collected. Considering how they parted and everything that happened since Jeremiah has not been back to the apartment they shared for these small miscellaneous items and Blaine never felt too inclined to bring them back to him. He had refused to get rid of anything, which Kurt thought was rather typical of Blaine. Considering Jeremiah’s little stunts Kurt personally thought he would be well within his rights to burn it all. That was just Kurt though.  
  
“Hi,” he says quietly, looking the other man right in the eye, and it appears that Jeremiah still has a hard time meeting his.  
  
“I had to see Blaine,” the other man says brusquely, looking straight ahead. “I needed to clear the air before I leave. We were together for a long time and I thought we were going to spend the rest of our life together and that still means something no matter what happened between us.”  
  
The winter wind blows and Kurt shivers, looking somewhat longingly at the warm interior before he lets go of the door and lets it swing closed.  
  
“You’re leaving?” He asks and Jeremiah nods.  
  
“Yeah. Moving back to Connecticut where my folks are. I’ve wanted to move back for a while but Blaine never did. Look Kurt....” he says, looking at Kurt for the first time. All the anger has gone from his face now. All that remains is resignation and a hint of sadness. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for everything I did to you. I know it doesn’t mean much but I had to say it. I never wanted you to get hurt; I just wanted you to go away.  
  
“When Blaine broke up with me you know what he said? He came in after spending all night in your bed and he just looked at me. I didn’t even need him to say it. So I just asked him if this was it, if it was over and he said ‘Jeremy I’ve been cruel to you and I don’t know what you say when you hurt someone and there’s nothing you can do to take it back.’ That’s it Kurt. That’s what it boils down to. I get a sorry and an empty plate and you and Blaine get each other. Tell me in what world was that supposed to be fair?” Jeremiah’s knuckles are white where they grip the box Kurt notices but he knows the man has a lot to say and so he says nothing.  
  
“Even now after talking to him, knowing how sorry he actually is for being a selfish bastard it doesn’t change the fact that I gave all I had to someone and it didn’t matter. I’m not perfect Kurt, but I did _try_. I did love him, and you _never_ respected that. You never even tried to back off and let go of him. So after everything that’s gone down I came here to get my stuff because it’s over, it’s done, you won.  
  
“But then I was sitting there with him, in his new home, with your things all over the place and photos of the pair of you on nearly every surface. God he looked so happy… which I hated, but it made me realize that I was never even competing; he has always belonged to you. I knew it the moment I saw you two together that first time and I could have backed out. I _should_ have backed out and I didn’t. So there you go, I’m as much to blame for how it all ended as anyone here I guess.”  
  
This may well be the last time Kurt ever sees this man. They have never been friends, and it’s precisely because of what Jeremiah has just said. They have both loved the same man and it’s true, Kurt never really let Blaine go and Blaine never really wanted to be let go. They say all is fair in love and war but Kurt can’t see anything fair right now about either.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he finds himself blurting out unexpectedly, but for some reason he has to say it. “Not for taking him away from you. Maybe it makes me horrible but I’m not. I couldn't be, not with the way I love him. And if you were honest with yourself I think you’d realize you can’t love him like I do. But I am sorry we hurt you. I lost him once too so I can understand why you must hate me.”  
  
“I never hated you,” Jeremiah admits tiredly, back to refusing to look at Kurt. “I hated what you stood for. Honestly, what I hated was that while you were drinking, cursing, and sleeping around with anyone who would have you _I_ was loving him. You were spoiled and demanding, you took him for granted, and still I couldn’t compete. I gave him so much better and yet nothing I did ever would. That’s what I hated.”  
  
“I’ve grown up since then,” Kurt replies tonelessly. There’s no use being offended by Jeremiah’s less than gentle criticisms. They have plenty of truth to them and he doesn’t think he and this man are ever truly going to see eye to eye.  
  
“That’s what he just told me. He’s changed a lot too you know. He’s like a different person with you and he’s completely alien to me now. So he’s yours now Kurt. Don’t hurt him again.” Jeremiah looks down his nose at Kurt in that way that always drove him crazy in the past, biting his lip as he pushes past Kurt and into a waiting taxi, driving off to start his new life back home.  
  
As far as apologies go it had been a pretty poor one but all things considering maybe this is the best that can be expected. Kurt meant what he said about being sorry for the way it all worked out, he doesn’t enjoy knowing he’s caused others pain, but there is plenty of blame all around and nothing can _really_ make him regret finally getting it right.  
  
He and Blaine, that’s what’s right.  
  
When Kurt reaches their apartment he opens the door and sneaks inside quietly, instead of his usual announcement of arrival to all and sundry. The apartment is silent as he makes his way inside, until he hears the tinkling of Blaine’s keyboard and the quiet sound of his voice coming from the bedroom.  
  
 _It’s been a long year. Since we last spoke. How’s your halo?_  
  
Content to let him process in the way that he knows Blaine processes best, Kurt leaves him be for the time being and sets about making a pot of tea in the kitchen.  
  
 _Just between you and I, you and me and the satellites. I never believed you. I only wanted to, before all of this._  
  
Then he sits and sips his tea on the couch, just listening to him, just letting time slow and his feelings settle. So much has happened, so much has changed and Kurt can’t fully make sense of it all. As far as endings go it’s not clean, no not in the least. It’s not easily tied up with ribbons and there are no words to make it all seem ordered and exact.  
  
 _Could I have saved you? Would that’ve betrayed you?_  
  
Misdeeds and mistakes… all of them were made. Some of them were rectified, some of them bore consequences and some of them will mercifully fade into obscurity. This is the way life works.  
  
 _I wanna burn this film. You along with those pills. What you couldn’t do I will._  
  
Happily ever after? Life rarely affords itself to such cleanliness. Endings, especially the human experience of them, are only ever so tidy in fairy tales. Don’t mistake me though, that doesn’t mean there’s no such thing as happily ever after.  
  
 _I forgive you. I’ll forgive you._  
  
The thing you have to remember is that even when we’re at our happiest there are still storms brewing, still threads coming undone, and still there are things going bump in the night. Hopeless? Not in the least. The thing about joy, and the human experience of it, is that it can ride the swells of anguish. Joy can shine even on a day riddled with the wreckage of our worst mistakes.  
  
 _For blue blue skies, for blue blue skies. For blue blue skies, for blue blue skies._  
  
Here’s what I learned from it all. It only works if you let it. All of the bad stuff, it’s easier to see and easier to believe because it will get you no matter how tightly you bar your doors. Pain happens to everyone. Life’s just fair that way.  
  
The good stuff like love, and joy, that’s harder. It’s harder because you have to unlock the door and invite it in. You have to face the dark and face yourself the same way you have to brave all the stinging to reach the honey.  
  
You may even have to forgive a few people who haven’t earned it. Unfair? Perhaps.  
  
 _For blue blue skies, for blue blue skies. I forgive you. For blue blue skies. I’ll forgive you._  
  
But without such forgiveness love would have no real power against all that darkness now would it?  
  
Kurt climbs up from the couch and walks into their bedroom. He breaks out in a surprised yet happy grin when he enters the room to see on his desk a bottle of champagne, strawberries, whipped cream and a big bunch of roses.  
  
“You’re back early.” Blaine starts in surprise stepping away from his keyboard.  
  
“What’s all this?” Kurt asks, gesturing to the desk as Blaine steeps effortlessly into his arms, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder and kissing that spot he loves on his neck.  
  
“I wanted to surprise you,” he admits softly. “Then I got side tracked.” Kurt knows by what, but it’s not something they need to discuss right now. If there was anything said between Blaine and Jeremiah that Blaine wants Kurt to know then Kurt knows Blaine will share it in his own time.  
  
“Well it was a nice thought.”  
  
“Do you like it? I was gonna put some petals on the bed or something like that and set everything up but...”  
  
“Blaine. It’s lovely, you’re lovely and I love you,” Kurt sighs happily, claiming his lips in a lazy kiss.  
  
“Love you more” he responds, placing a finger on Kurt’s lip when he goes to say how that’s not possible. “So, are you done?”  
  
“Yep,” Kurt answers him with an elated smile. “I’m finished; I am officially an escort no more.”  
  
“Wonderful.” Blaine’s smile, that’s truly what is wonderful to Kurt in that moment. “So what happens next Kurt? After the prince climbs the tower and rescues the princess what happens?”  
  
Kurt’s answering smile is positively brilliant. Pretty woman? Blaine _would_.  
  
“The other prince says get your eyes checked buddy, I aint no princess” Kurt retorts playfully and Blaine laughs. Kurt smiles at him and just before he captures his lips in a kiss he says to the man he loves with all the love he bears him, “And then he rescues him right back.”  
  
What he says next is not thought out, not planned in the least.  
  
You should Know that Kurt has been coming to this point ever since he passed a boy in a hallway and called out for help.  
  
You should also know that Kurt wants this for himself, but mostly he wants it for them both. What’s a Queen bee without a hive anyway?  
  
“I think they get married and I think they eventually move to a bigger castle and raise a family of lost boys or something like that. It’s been a long time since I read this story.”  
  
Kurt yelps indignantly as Blaine suddenly sweeps him off his feet, spinning Kurt around not at all gracefully because Kurt is not a _princess_ and this isn’t a movie. They nearly fall over and truthfully Blaine doesn’t exactly _lay_ Kurt on the bed, so much as they both go toppling into it laughing hysterically. Finally they catch their breath, and Kurt wraps his legs around Blaine’s waist locking them together and kissing him soundly.  
  
The last thing you need to know about Kurt Hummel is that he won’t live ‘happily’ ever after. Life doesn’t really work that way. Kurt will have joy though because he loves and he is loved and more importantly he is free. Kurt Hummel simply lives.  
  
THE END _of one story_.  
  
On a plane flying over the Atlantic a young man closes a book. His name is Shane Anderson-Hummel and when he boarded this flight he was still running, still angry with his life and the people in it for not understanding why frustration and bitterness gnaws at him. The bitterest thing of all being no one really understands the choices he has made, not his father’s, not his mother, not his grandparents, not even himself.  
  
He has been living estranged from them for something going on a year and though there are nights when he would trade much to be young again- to lay with his fathers and brother on the rug and talk about how dinosaurs were better than girls and wouldn’t it be nice if dinosaurs could come back and eat all the girls- there is no going back and he does not see any way forward but the path he has chosen.  
  
At least he hadn’t before.  
  
THE BEGINNING of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it!!! If this was your first time reading congratulations! Thank you for going on this amazing journey. If you'd like, please see the other parts in this series.


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